Shinjitsu no Shi
by Silver Miko
Summary: AxM-He returned a broken man, intending on rebuilding his life...but now she posesses his title, and by way of a past vow shall he possess her even if she does not comply.
1. Forbidden Lover

Author's Note: This is my baby, my piece of drama. This is inspired by so many many things.

Shinjitsu no Shi the song, Hikaru A, Western Ink, the book 'Across the Nightingale Floor'...

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Shinjitsu no Shi

By Silver Miko

Chapter 1: Forbidden Lover

_'One day the heart I've lost sight of  
the sins I repeatedly leave behind to be forgotten  
that fosters into mistakes in this tainted love  
construct my paradise with the rubble_'

1881

13th Meiji

It was early morning, the sky a lavender remnant of night, and the brightest star and the waning crescent still hung in the sky as the sun had yet to rise over the dark green mountains. Pale orange clouds dispersed through the sky like dye being poured into water, stirred.

Along the slash of dirt road through the giant pine trees with their thick trunks, a lone figure walked, a long coat billowing softly in the morning breeze.

He was so close to the city limits, his mind already seeing the familiar brown tiled Touji pagoda striking into the sky. The blue roofed buildings, the busy streets, the river, shabu shabu at Shirobeko...a small girl in onmitsu uniform laughing...

The sweet memories of his past, his youth, felt bittersweet now. Like sake on the tongue, a burn in the back of his throat.

He shouldn't have been making this journey back alone.

There should have been four others by his side, walking with him down this dirt road. Instead they were buried beneath the dirt in the mountains, with only four stones as markers of they great men they were.

To others they make have seemed villians, hired thugs.

To Aoshi, they were some of the finest men he had ever the privilege to know and train.

Beshimi.

Hyottoko.

Shikijou.

And Hannya, his right hand man.

They had been men, like him, whom to most in Tokyo had little to no honor.

But to him, they had died with more honor than he could hope to attain again.

They had died for him, to save him.

He could feel a dull throbbing in his legs, where small scars now marred the skin as reminders of the Gattling gun bullets that had wounded him there.

Whenever, if ever, he smelled gun smoke again surely his stomach would churn.

He would see red, a wash of red. Cries of 'Okashira!'. Blood splashing the clean wooden floors of that den of a devil.

That damned opium dealer. If only he hadn't owed Kanryuu a favor. If only that Takani woman hadn't gotten the Battousai involved, if only...if only...

He would often, when trying not to succumb to the bleakest despair during his time in Tokyo, think of Kyoto...the place for so long that he called home. He would imagine the faces of the people on the streets, and the scent of the air.

He would think of tea, Okina's cooking, anything but where he was.

It was the only thing keeping him sane. He had slowly lost everything.

His pride. His honor. His freedom. His comrades. His sanity had left him too, that fated night. He was possessed then, by a demon of vengeance, he became a shuura.

So much had happened since then, almost a year had past. Now he was on his path back to the place he once called home, mind fragile and still recovering, soul broken.

There was only one thing left for him, the Oniwabanshuu. Those who still lived. They still needed him, did they not? The man once considered a child genius, made Okashira at age fifteen?

He would return, root himself back in Kyoto, rebuild some semblance of life.

And there was still another matter, an old promise that was to be fulfilled.

It wasn't until he heard the clatter of hooves that he realized hours later he was within the city limits, he was in Kyoto once more.

So lost in thought he had been. He kept walking, not even needing to see to know where to go. He knew by instinct where to go, which road to take. Even with a dense crowd, his above average height made people move out of his way as he quietly made his way.

He faintly heard the whispers, people who vaguely recognized him and were making the mental connections as to his identity.

He ignored them.

His only agenda at the moment was reaching the Aoiya.

He came upon the small path, and in the distance saw the oak and sakura trees and a small, lithe figure.

He drew closer until he was but a few feet from her, and a jolt of something he did not want to acknowledge hit him.

She was short, so petite. Probably only reached his abdomen, maybe chest. Her skin was pale, like peach blossoms colored that soft white with a tinge of pinkish-orange. Her hair was like a raven's gleaming wing, blue-black silk.

Her eyes...they reminded him of the ocean he often stole glances of in Tokyo.

How she had grown. Her face was lightly made-up; a red stain on her lips, red shadow kissing her eyelids. She wore a kimono of pale scarlet like a deep blush, her obi a dark crimson.

She looked like a doll, a porcelain beauty...his doll.

He could tell from the bewildered arch of her brow she did not recognize him. Why would she? She was but a child when he left, only knowing him as the person who she had grown up training for.

He drew near, her face turning up to see him more clearly, and she made no move to flee. Rooted like a tree in her spot.

He was close, close enough to smell her scent- a tantalizing perfume of white tea and ginger. Her lips parted as she took a small breath, a small, polite smile on her face.

"Have we...met?" she asked, her voice clear like a silver bell.

He almost felt the corners of his lips quirk, perhaps before...before Tokyo he would have smiled.

Instead with cold eyes baring only the faintest hint of emotion he reached out, fingers tracing her chin.

"It's been a long time, Misao." he murmured, his voice a deep, velvet rumble.

Misao made a soft gasp as Aoshi withdrew his gloved hand.

How he wished he was not wearing the gloves, for he would have memorized the texture of her smooth skin.

"I know you from...long ago.."

"I am Shinomori Aoshi."

He saw her repeat the name silently, and knew the moment she recognized the name as her eyes winded and her lips formed an 'O'.

"You're the Okashira!" she said, her voice tinged with disbelief.

He nodded slowly, feeling a bitterness at the mention of the esteemed title.

Okashira...

The scent of smoke...blood...death.

"Aoshi-sama?"

He looked down at her peering gaze.

"You used to call me that."

Misao blinked.

"I...did? I'm sorry, I don't remember you." she said, bowing her head slightly.

A breeze swept through the air, lifting his ebony bangs as Misao gazed up at him.

Such a face... a most beautifully cold face.

So familiar... a lingering scent of green tea and incense.

Aoshi-sama.

The honorific felt so endearing, so natural in her heart.

His name, etched like a forgotten tattoo.

Okashira. But...she was...

"We..Welcome you back to Kyoto, Aoshi-sama. We must talk."

So serious, unexpectedly. Misao had always been exuberant , un-serious.

She turned, indicating for him to follow her to the Aoiya, the short journey made in silence.

Her stomach turned in unease.

She always wondered about this day, when the long gone Okashira would return...

Wondered...dreaded.

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He wanted to break something.

Grab her, shake her, slip his hands around the pale slim column of her neck, throttle her.

How? How could she? They approved of it?

"Unacceptable." he finally murmured.

She looked up at him, her hands clenching and unclenching as they were grasped in front of her.

She had waited, let him shit in his chair, waited after the strange and surreal greetings from the other Oniwabanshuu.

He should have known from the troubled glances...

"It is...was what I felt best at the time. We weren't sure of your return, and by blood it is my right."

While he was in Tokyo, while he was his own Hell, she had stripped him of his title by her words, taken up the mantle of Okashira, expected her will to be carried out.

Traitorous child. Stubborn woman.

She had rambled, saying she wasn't sure he would return, that the Oniwabanshuu needed a leader again...a Makimachi.

Her pretty words, so rational, made his blood boil.

The one thing he had left, the one anchor.

She had mindlessly ripped it from him on her sixteenth birthday, two years ago. He had lost it all- his comrades, his honor, his sanity.

Washed away in blood and gun smoke, fueled with revenge.

He had stayed in the mountains training, a murderer killing bandits to improve.

All for revenge.

Kanryuu...Himura Battousai.

He had killed Kanryuu so easily.

Battousai.

The long gashing scar on his chest was a reminder, the battle once more against Battousai.

Aoshi was prepared to die, but Battousai, the damned man, gave him a reason to live.

To go home.

'Aoshi, it was not your fault! You are Okashira! The Oniwabanshuu? What of those who live? Who need someone to lead then in this new era?'

Battousai had urged him to wake up.

So he returned. Broken.

Without his comrades.

Torn pride.

Tainted honor.

He made the journey back to Kyoto, one clear goal in mind, to lead once more.

Establish a semblance of life again.

Misao...the girl he long ago signed his future away to.

A blood pact, a valid contract with the previous Okashira. To secure Misao's future, and now...and now...

He supposedly had no title.

Nothing...but her.

Little Misao.

The girl he had years ago, in another era, in his youth, had been sworn to one day marry.

That was the contract, his future. His duty. His promise.

And now...

Did she think her claim would stand?

"You will return the title of Okashira to me Misao, for one- it was not yours to take on your own accord, and two-I will restore it to myself anyway upon our marriage."

"M...Marriage?" she squeaked out.

He stood up, walking towards her slowly, his visage one that often made opponents shake.

Misao did her best to not visibly tremble.

White tea and ginger, such a dizzying fragrance.

"When I was eight, I agreed in writing and word to a contract made by your grandfather. I would marry you when you came of age. You were always intended to be mine."

A gasp.

"No...no! That's not...I always thought...it was a joke. Okon-san and Omasu-san would tease me...saying I needed to learn to be a better bride. I never..."

He was so close.

Once more, he grasped her chin, lifting her face.

"It matters not, treacherous girl. You are mine."

His lips suddenly brushed hers.

A seductive promise, a teasing caress.

Her hands slapped against the black material of his shirt, pushing him away.

"I can't...this..." her hand flew to her lips, her cheeks red like the garment she wore.

His hands came to rest against the wall, caging her in.

"You have no choice, Misao. Okina knows of the betrothal."

She looked down.

Aoshi-sama. Hadn't he been nice?

She vaguely recalled the tall boy she followed everywhere, piggy-back rides...

Aoshi-sama.

"Why?" she asked.

So simple a question. So complicated an answer.

He wasn't even sure, but seeing her...

So grown, so pale, so beautiful.

He had felt it like the strike of a sword- lust. For Misao.

The girl who followed him wherever.

Such shameful lust.

The moment he had seen her in the distance, drew nearer, smelled that fragrance...

He wanted to grab her, kiss her, taste her peach blossom skin, strip her naked and bury himself into her until she was senseless and moaning his name.

It twisted at his soul, troubled him.

To want Misao, he'd never imagined such desire as this. And he'd only been in her presence for an hour.

It would be she who would surrender, she would yearn for him and she would beg.

She would be his, as she was indeed always meant to be.

He decided then.

She wanted to take his title, did she?

Then he would take her to be his. Simple as that.

"Because...you are mine."

And his lips claimed hers again.

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She wanted to hate him, hate the mysterious, tall man who was more a memory who had deemed her his.

She was not a possession!

She was Makimachi Misao, the Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu.

By her own word.

Was it...really valid?

She could understand his anger at having been denounced Okashira. She could understand his dark presence, she had heard word of the matter in Tokyo with Takeda Kanryuu.

But...why was he claiming her? She looked out at the river, her back shifting against the bark of the sakura tree. Her lavender and blue onmitsu uniform now replaced the pale scarlet yukata.

It was warm, not the sticky warm that had yet to arrive, but a balmy and peaceful warmth. A whispering promise of summer.

She closed her eyes.

The moment she saw Aoshi, the more she remembered.

How could she forget that she had fancied herself in love with him?

She had been five, and they had been walking to go fishing when she had suddenly beamed up at him.

'Aoshi-sama, I love you! Someday I'll be your bride, right?'

A fifteen year old Aoshi looked down at her, nodded.

'Aa, one day when you grow up.'

'Okay! I'll learn to be Aoshi-sama's bride!'

It was after that she had asked to learn to prepare tea. Aoshi loved tea. She wanted to know how to make it.

She remembered thinking it was a game, that she was someone's bride one day.

Her Aoshi-sama.

He was different. More silent, more stoic.

Darker.

When he appeared, she had trembled in fear. In something else.

God help her, she had felt her skin burn when touched her chin, kissed her.

It was all too surreal.

She wondered if it was because she took his title or maybe he too felt the startling desire.

But, oh, he was really more a ghost of the past.

And not.

Not the same Aoshi-sama.

And Okina could not get her out of this one. He could not rescind the contract of betrothal. She was bound in writing to marry Shinomori Aoshi.

It unsettled her.

Where were those days? Those happy days in youth?

Gone.

Green tea...incense.

Her eyes snapped open as she looked behind her to see Aoshi.

_Damn_, she never sensed him approach.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"I'm thinking...I do not want this."

He looked out at the river.

He was so imposing, the beige trench coat a contrast to the black uniform he wore beneath.

"But you have no choice."

She clenched a fist, standing up and wishing Aoshi were not so tall. She looked away, at the water.

"So then, we'll marry. You will demand back your title."

He closed his eyes.

"Marriage has not been something I had on my mind."

She looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"Then..."

"But you are mine. Regardless. Marriage or not."

"Wha...What?"

She felt his fingers against hair, against her cheek, her throat as he pulled her against him.

"It's quite clear. You are my woman."

She closed her eyes, trying to step away from him.

"I refuse to be your whore." she spat out, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to break his hold on her.

He made no indication he was in pain. Amongst the empty riverside, with only the birds chirping, did a struggle of wills commence.

He sent her forward, down to the ground as he pinned her.

Her stomach pressed against the cool blades of grass, a contrast to the warm breath against her ear.

"You can't deny you want this, Misao. Did you not confess love for me often as a child?" he murmured, his teeth nipping her earlobe.

"You are...not the same." she breathed out, feeling his hand move over her, tracing down her side and up...such a guilty pleasure.

She fought the urge to moan, to not show any sign he was affecting her.

His lips, teeth at her neck marking her.

No control. Chaotic emotion.

There was a hardness against her back, and Aoshi's breathing was growing mor erratic.

And then it happened, a broken moan from her lips.

"Aoshi...sama..."

He stopped, lifting himself off of her as she sat up and looked up at him.

His face seemed so...haunted.

Then the cold mask of neutrality returned, and he walked away.

But he had won.

She had called out his name.

A plea.


	2. Fate

Author's Note: Erm, in chapter one I meant to say Aoshi was like shura, not Shuura. He's not a pirate! Arg!

:shakes head and makes 100 ughs:

I can feel the imminent stress a coming. This might end up being a long-term summer project...I think I may have to rethink quitting smoking on this.

Hmmm..

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Chapter 2: Fate

_it's my destiny to run deep through  
the frozen conifers,  
vainly pulling my wish close to my heart,  
to the eddy of the flaming storm_

Dusk was settling in. The sky burned orange and red as the crickets began their song and the busy murmur of the streets became more of a faded hush. It was drafty, cool outside. The scent of oolong tea filled the room as the steam billowed around the kneeling form of Kashiwazaki Nenji, commonly known as Okina.

Aoshi sat two feet across from him, his clothed knees resting against the hard wooden floor as he stared into the pale green glazed cup, the amber liquid dimly reflecting his blank expression.

Okina, a man normally always with a grin of sorts, now had an almost grim expression on his deeply lined features.

"Aoshi...what are your intentions with my little Misao?" he asked finally, his voice calm.

Aoshi looked up, and took a sip of his tea and then set his cup down.

"I intend to fulfil the stipulations of the contract I made with the previous Okashira, the very same one you bore witness to."

Okina sighed.

So long ago, in the days when Misao was more his friend's grand-daughter. Before he had adopted her.

He had too cared for her best interest, and had agreed with Makimachi that Aoshi was the perfect choice for Misao's future husband. He was an intelligent boy, brave and honorable, and always kept an eye on the little girl.

But time, like a flood, had its way of eradicating even the strongest of things. Time had gone by, changed Aoshi. He was now more stranger than the boy Okina had watched grow into a man.

And his plans for Misao were unknown. It unsettled and upset Okina to even have suspicions of Aoshi, having once thought the boy like a child of his own. He knew, about the Kanryuu incident, the mysterious deaths in the mountains, the Battousai...

Could he really trust the man before him with his precious Misao?

"Aoshi, I must express my concern. I know you've been through a great ordeal, and you are no longer the same man I once knew. I know there is nothing I can do to stop you from claiming Misao as your wife. I can only hope you honor her and respect her."

"She will be taken care of." Aoshi murmured.

Okina took up his cup, drank.

"Her becoming Okashira...she truly had the best intentions, Aoshi. Do not be angry at her or seek to punish her in some way for her actions. Sometimes her heart is so big, she does not see everything in magnitude."

Aoshi made no reply, stood up and bowed his head slightly as he left Okina's quarters and made his way to his room to collect a sleeping yukata and made his way downstairs and outside, walking to the bath house.

The sky grew dark, navy colored velvet dusted with diamond-like stars. Crickets still sang, and the air was still cool. Aoshi re-emerged from the bathhouse, beige yukata slightly agape to reveal his scarred chest. Everyone appeared to be in their sleeping quarters.

He walked slowly, the wooden porch dimly lit with the blue paper lanterns Okina had always loved hanging up everywhere. He was passing the small garden in the back when he saw her, standing there barefoot on the lawn. She wore a pale yellow yukata and she was looking up at the sky, the wind gently causing her braid to shift.

She didn't sense him, or if she did she made no move to face him.

He couldn't explain the invisible tug he felt, but his feet began taking their own path towards her quiet form. The sakura tree she stood next to looked almost black in the night. She was like a pale beacon of light in the darkness.

He was close now, a foot away, and still voiced nothing.

"I think there is more than some old promise driving you where I am concerned. I can't help but feel you have one if not several ulterior motives. Tell me Aoshi-sama, what will marrying me truly gain you?"

The surprising tone of her voice, soft and mature. Womanly. He couldn't deny the shivers it sent down his spine. Her words were clear, the depth in them beyond the realm of words a child would speak.

She really was an adult now, wasn't she?

Yes. She was. No child would make him feel this. Violent. Crazed. Frustrated. He knew it the moment he set eyes on her again after all the years past, he was reacted to her as a man would a woman.

It starlted him, a man so used to keeping calm. It unnerved him. He did not want Misao to become a continuing weakness gnawing at him. That was why...

"I gain you, Misao. I gain back my title."

"I see, I am a pawn then."

"Perhaps, but you placed yourself there by your own actions."

She turned then, her eyes ablaze as they looked up at him.

"I did what was best for this clan! Where were you? Whoring the name of Oniwabanshuu to the highest buyer!"

She regretted the words the moment they flew out of her mouth, the darkening of his expression as he moved closer and pinned her back to the tree.

"You know nothing of what you speak. You stealing my title was akin to a child playing dress up. Never make a remark like that again."

His voice was low and taut, and for the first time since his return she actually feared him. Was this the face those he had slain saw before death gripped them at the ends of his kodachi?

This beautiful dark face.

Her breath came out shaky, and she attempted to push him away.

"I apologize, Aoshi-sama, I shall retire."

She bowed and was going to leave. He did not let her.

"You cannot fight destiny, Misao. You were always meant to marry me. There is nothing you can do to escape your fate."

He saw her shoulders tense, then droop.

"Indeed, I am a woman in a man's world, no matter how much power I like to think I wield, but know this Aoshi-sama: I will never be a passive, docile wife. You will know my disdain, I will not comply will all your wishes, I will not be silenced."

Aoshi closed his eyes, an almost mocking smirk gracing his lips, making Misao wonder what a true smile would look like on his face.

"You never were silent to begin with. The way you describe marriage to you sounds...interesting."

Her eyes widened, and then she turned around and made her way back inside. He had startled her, good.

Let her know she was not escaping marriage to him.

He _had_ thought in a lingering manner about that old promise on his way back to Kyoto, but it wasn't until he saw her...wasn't until he heard about her actions...

They had triggered a particularly dark combination of frustration and anger. Feelings that made the idea more and more desirable.

The biggest factor in his decision had nothing to do with honor or duty, it was that he did not trust the slip of a girl to run the Oniwabanshuu. She could not understand the severity of the position, she had not the proper training...she had not the cold-blooded ruthlessness some situations required...

Soon, he decided, they would marry as soon as possible. No sense in putting it off, for it just gave Misao more time to stew over it and try to think of irrational ways to elude it.

He would arrange for a priest, inform Okina and the others, notify Misao.

A week. Yes, that would be perfect. In a week Misao would be his wife, he would be Okashira again, he would keep his eye on her and keep her away from Okashira business. He knew she would not like it, probably try to fight it.

Too bad she couldn't stop it. He almost felt sorry, but was there any guilt in her heart when she decided to steal his title?

It was karma really. She grew up learning to be a bride, wether she knew it was more than a game or not. He was bound by clan honor, and no matter how much of his honor he tore away and burnt over revenge...he would not defy the wishes of the Makimachi, his mentor, his guardian, the first parental figure he knew.

And the sooner he married her, the sooner he could take stock of what she had done with the Oniwabanshuu and sort it all out, restore order, and slowly extract her from anything that would pose a danger to both her and the clan.

Sliding his shoji open and shut, he moved to sit at his desk and took out his writing utensils and began penning a short, precise note to the man once known at Hitokiri Battousai. He had heard an off-handed comment once from the Battousai's friend Sagara Sanosuke that a "weasel girl" supposedly affiliated with the Oniwabanshuu had once visited Tokyo and made friends with one Kamiya Kaoru- Himura Battousai's female acquaintance. It was rather simple logic to deduce the former gangster was referring to Misao.

It was odd how in a round about way they were all connected. He figured the company of the Kamiya woman would in a way ease Misao's discomfort and lesson some tension. Though Aoshi politely made a subtle point that the Takani woman need not make the journey.

The memories were still too raw, and the woman who really was innocent was unfortunately a stabbing reminder of the worst period of his life. In honesty his life would be better if he never gazed upon Takani Megumi again.

The candlelight burned in his silent room as finally twenty minutes later he set his brush down and let the letter dry, blowing out the candle. He moved to lay down on his futon, but he knew he would not sleep so easily. Sleep never came easily, if it came at all. Every time he closed his eyes...gun smoke...blood...screams...

Always there, always haunting him, never letting him have a moment's peace. He slept for at most four hours if he was lucky. The pale moonlight filtering into his room and he sighed, wondering when there would be a day when he wasn't so haunted.

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Sharp amber eyes scanned over the sheet of paper before him and a thin, silver stream of smoke rose towards the ceiling of the dark office. White gloved hands undid one button of the navy uniform the tall seated figure wore and a bemused smirk slowly made its way to the man's face.

"So the former Okashira returns. Interesting." his deep voice murmured in amusement.

The door slid open letting in pale light as a tall woman with long brown hair entered the room, a black yukata adoring her lithe figure.

"Hajime, what news have you that makes you smirk so?"

Saitoh Hajime looked up at his wife, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Just an interesting former demon has returned, meaning I have something to do."

Tokio smirked, walking to his side and resting her hands on his shoulders.

"And I suppose your dear wife is boring you in all your free time?"

Saitoh sighed, and put a hand on hers.

"You are far from boring, pet. However, a wolf such as myself does get restless."

Tokio clucked her tongue, her hands flying to the air.

"Once a wolf, always a wolf. And to think I once thought your tenacity charming. Why is it I agreed to marry you again, dear?"

Saitoh looked up, setting the report down.

"Because you very much enjoy me fucking you, dear."

Tokio rolled her eyes, well used to her husband's blunt statements. At least he was honest and treated her as something more than a servant. For all his skills, for all his deadliness, he really was helpless when it came to her.

"Tokio, what are you smiling at?"

Shaking out of her thoughts she made a sweeping motion with her hands.

"Oh nothing. I'll leave you be and retire for the evening. Don't be too long, dear. I may need a reminder as to why I stay with you."

"I won't be long." he replied.

He watched her leave and smirked once more. He knew she thought she had his wrapped around her finger...and he let her think that. Because as much as he loved her, at the end of the day...it was he who pulled the strings.

A Mibu wolf was never a leashed dog, and Saitoh merely pretended to be leashed.

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	3. Heaven's Drive

Author's Note: Finished all 3 books of Tales of Otori...well if there's more I'm not sure. But dayum! Good reads.

Note: The yunio is the Japanese Engagement Ceremony.

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Chapter 3: Heaven's Drive

_You just don't tire of it.  
What do you want next ?  
I'm almost eaten to the bone  
by starving lips unconscious of their sin,  
oh leave me alone  
_

The yunio was a blur for Misao, she barely recalled opening the customary gifts of dried cuttlefish, kelp, and thread. Or the beige folded fan with its fine black lacquered wood framing.

Her friends from Tokyo had arrived, sans Megumi, for the ceremony, and if they knew the real reasons behind her whirlwind marriage they were kind enough to keep silent about it.

Now she wore the white kimono of marriage, her hair dampening with sweat underneath the white headdress. Beads of sweat pooled between her shoulder blades and down her back, the cream makeup painted on her face made her feel like she was trapped in porcelain.

That man's porcelain doll.

The tortoise-comb shells pricked her scalp as she tilted her head back and accepted the customary three stacked dishes of sake that were part of the ceremony. She wanted this over, the day to end. She wanted to strip herself of the wedding kimono, scrub off the doll like face make up, and bathe off the oppressive sweat.

The heat had come without warning, much like Aoshi had arrived without warning to Kyoto, and it left Misao dizzy and with a stifled feeling. Her head was lowered, but she peeked out from underneath her lashes to peer at Aoshi. Her new husband.

He was dressed in the traditional black groom kimono with white cranes embroidered on it- the Shinomori family crest. He was not looking at her, rather conversing quietly with Himura. His expression betrayed nothing, and Misao felt frustration arise in her.

"Misao-chan?"

She turned around to see Omasu and Okon standing behind her.

"What is it?"

"Can we have a word with you?"

She nodded, following them to a secluded area of the Shinto shrine where no one could hear them speak.

"Misao..." Okon began, swallowing in nervousness and then regaining her composure, "It's no secret Omasu and myself have explained to you the intimate relations between a man and a woman, but we just wanted to be sure you were really prepared."

"If you have any questions." Omasu added.

Misao made a "hmph" noise and removed her headdress.

"I know all I need to thanks to your words over the years, but I can assure you that particular knowledge will _not_ be of use tonight."

Okon and Omasu blinked.

"You aren't going to...you will deny your husband?"

Misao looked away, out at a pine tree nearby and saw a bird perched on a thick branch.

"Do you see that bird there on the branch? I never thought I'd envy an animal, let alone a bird. Now I find myself wishing I too could fly away, but I have been caged. Thus I will not give that man the satisfaction of a lover."

"Misao, he may..." Omasu began, then closed her mouth.

"Force me? If he wishes to bring the wrath of the clan upon him he will not. I may be powerless in aspects as a woman, but to dishonor me so will bring severe ramifications, let alone what Jiya will do."

The two brunettes nodded and bowed, leaving Misao to be as she watched the bird more in silence.

She heard footsteps and did not turn, she already knew who it was. She watched as the bird flew off before hearing him speak.

"The others are wondering where you are."

"Hmm, and I'm sure you were so worried yourself my dear husband." she said, sarcasm dripping in the false endearment.

Aoshi's mouth was a grim line and it gave Misao slight satisfaction that she was giving him a hard time.

"We should return. It is getting late and soon everyone will want to retire."

She did not say anything, but followed him through the shrine hallway to return to the party.

"You should know, Aoshi-sama, I have no intentions of giving myself to you." she said, her voice low.

He stopped and turned to face her, his cold blue gaze piercing her.

"I recall you saying that once, and then contradicting yourself. You are a liar if you claim to not enjoy my touch. No, Misao, ours will be true marriage in name and body." he murmured, his hand reaching out to graze her chin as he lifted her face.

She hated that she felt a warmth where his fingers touched her face and that she felt her knees would weaken. She did not want to acknowledge any desire for this man who had stolen her freedom, but her body was slowly betraying her.

Jerking her chin free of his grasp, Misao stepped past him.

"I am afraid you are the only one of that opinion."

With that she made quick steps to return to the party, leaving Aoshi in her wake.

He watched her go, gaze narrowed.

So stubborn she was, his new wife. She was a challenge indeed, much more than he realized. He wasn't sure if her tremendous will made him feel a small sense of admiration for her, a sense of frustration.

He couldn't see the little girl she had been anymore, no trace of the child Misao that would cling to his legs and smile widely at him. All he saw more and more was a woman, who one moment he felt like throttling and other making her scream his name in pleasure. Oh he was still incensed over her taking his title and still saw her as a means to reestablish his power, and this was her retribution.

She was his, the title she took would be returned to him within a week, and now she would abide by him, keep his bed warm despite the so-called oppositions she made, and she would provide him with children.

With her blood and his, the Oniwbanshuu clan would grow even stronger and the Okashira title would now run in his family name. He was currently the only left of the Shinomori, and through Misao the Shinomori would be reborn.

It was as simple as that. And it was not.

For this, for the his future and the clan's, he would play the villain, he would contend with a stubborn, unwilling wife, he would ignore the unkind words about him.

He would harden his heart and his resolve. He would be a wall.

And maybe one day they would see what he was doing was for the best.

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Aoshi frowned at the tall man conversing with Misao, recognizing the gleam of the slicked backed hair and the navy uniform. He knew Battousai was aware of the uninvited guest, and saw the red-headed man stick with his friends.

Aoshi remained lingering in the shadows of the temple doorway, faintly overhearing the Mibu wolf bestow congratulations upon Misao at her new marriage.

Lies. The Mibu wolf was here for one reason and one reason only: He had heard that Shinomori Aoshi was back in Kyoto.

Aoshi watched Saitoh tip his hat to Misao and leave, and only after he was gone did Aoshi emerge from the shadows. Misao had a small smile on her face as she turned to look back, her smile faltering when she saw Aoshi descend the steps looking none-too pleased.

Not that he ever did look happy.

He came to stand next to her, glowering down at her petite form.

"That man...is not to be trusted, Misao."

She looked up at him, pursing her lips.

"Who? Fujita-san?"

Aoshi sighed. It figured she wouldn't understand the danger.

"Misao, that man is not who you think he is, he's..."

"Saitoh Hajime, former captain of the Shinsengumi Third Squad and a Mibu Wolf. Married to a Takagi Tokio and father of three sons. He poses as Fujita Goro for police work. Really Aoshi-sama, I'm not as naive as you think." she said tartly, and turned on her heels and walked away.

Aoshi opened his mouth, then closed it.

Misao was...surprising.

The reception ended, the Tokyo-gumi left for their guest rooms at the Aoiya. Aoshi had been talking with Kenshin when Kaoru handed Misao a letter from Megumi. Misao retired to her, no, their room, and opened the letter and blinked as a small packet fell out.

She looked at the paper.

'Misao,

I wish you luck on your marriage, and understand why your groom requested I remain in Tokyo...I regret to say it would have been my preference regardless. I assume your hasty marriage was one probably not of your choice and thus I would not wish you to suffer an unwanted wedding night.

The powder in the packet is a strong sleeping agent. Put a spoonful in Shinomori-san's tea at night and he will fall asleep rather quickly, sparing you from unwanted coupling. I warn you however, there is only enough to last for two weeks.

Be well, Misao. For all his seeming coldness and indifference, I used to suspect that somewhere in there he does have a heart. If anyone can find it, it would be tenacious little Misao.

Megumi'

Misao sighed, and closed the letter giving mental thanks to Megumi. She suspected Aoshi wouldn't force her into anything...but she wasn't too sure he wouldn't try. Better safe than sorry. She quickly fetched the tea making tools and began preparing tea.

Aoshi made his way to their room shortly after, and watched as Misao was on her knees preparing tea.

"Would you care for some tea, Aoshi-sama?" she asked.

He looked her over, her hair now in her usual braid and she was wearing a beige sleeping yukata.

As he sat across from her he noticed her face was clean of makeup, her cheeks tinged lightly pink.

He suddenly wished for her to take her hair down, and was surprised by that impulse. He let the thought go as she handed him the cup, and sipped the tea. It tasted smoky and he didn't really think about it. He didn't want to think.

They drank in silence, Misao glancing up at him every now and again. Probably worried he would try something. Or of what would come. He was confidant in that he attempted to seduce her, she'd resist at first but then give in as she had before.

He yawned, suddenly feeling quite tired. Perhaps it had been the sake at the ceremony, or just the weight of events. He set his cup down and went to stand, his limbs heavy.

"Aoshi-sama, you look tired." Misao commented, setting her tea down. She watched as he made his way to the futon and sat, then fell back.

"Misao..." he began to speak, then felt his eyes close.

Misao waited until she heard his breathing steady, and was assured he was alseep. Lifting her tea cup to her lips, she leisurely finished her tea, looking out at the open window she heard the chirp of crickets and distant rustle of chimes.

Two weeks...she could prevent him for two weeks...

After that, she was on her own.

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:collapses:

I need my shishkabobs to cook quicker.


	4. Buried in Flowers

Author's Note: La la la la la la la la... :jimmy eat world is in my head dangit:

Oh and the actual title to this chapter is 'Kasou', but it's a word I believe Hyde pretty much made up by replacing the character of fire for flower, so it means like 'consumed by flowers' or 'buried in flowers', or like 'flower burial'.

Sigh, oh that Hyde.

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Chapter 4: Buried in Flowers

_'my beloved one, you just gently turn cold,  
in these arms as you are broken  
listen. The abyss of dreams is calling  
like always'_

The stifling heat had yet to release the city from its sweltering grasp, and more and more the streets were less crowded and people were seeking to cool off at lakes or streams or rivers. There was talk of a possible drought if the heat kept up.

"Hey Shiro-kun, think business will pick up after this weather gets better?" Omasu asked, as the two were cleaning dishes in the Aoiya kitchen.

"Maybe. People are just more content to stay indoors and fan themselves then come out and eat. I really hope this heat lets up or business will get bad and then Okina-san will get depressed and go through the sake."

Omasu sighed.

"And how did we get trapped to kitchen duty today? I was sure it was Okon and Kuro-kun's turn."

"Okina asked them to go get more produce for the restaurant since Kuro can carry a lot of boxes back and Okon-san has a way with getting prices lowered."

Omasu snorted.

"It's because she shamelessly flirts with the vendors. Really, as dedicated as she is to Hiko-sama, she'll still shake her hips to get her will done."

"Maybe. I never think of Okon-san in those terms really. She's too sisterly." Shiro said, scratching at his dark blonde hair.

Omasu shifted closer.

"And what about me, Shiro-kun?"

Shiro blinked, a blush forming on his cheeks.

"I...uh...Misao-chan!"

Omasu looked to the doorway to see Misao standing there with a small smile on her face.

"A smile? Misao-chan, are you feeling better?" Omasu asked.

Misao shrugged and walked to the pantry to rummage through it.

"Well, I can't wallow forever at my unfortunately fate. Why make myself more miserable? It'll probably just make that man more pleased, and pleasing Aoshi-sama is the last thing I want to do."

Omasu blinked.

"I guess habits die hard."

Misao arched an eyebrow.

"Howso?"

"You just referred to him as 'Aoshi-sama', just like when you were a child."

Omasu and Shiro watched Misao frown and return to rummaging through the pantry. Obviously Misao was not pleased with that comment. She had been fighting hard, doing everything possible to be as little compliant as she could, ignoring Aoshi when she could. They had all noticed the terse expression that passed over her features when he arrived at the dinner table, and the silence that seemed to rob them of speech.

They were still angry at Aoshi for what he had done. Okina seemed more tolerant, more willing to accept Aoshi. Perhaps it had been the words Aoshi spoke to Okina in private. Maybe Okina knew something they didn't. Perhaps Okina had more faith in the former ward of the Okashira and Oniwabanshuu.

Okon, Omasu, Shiro, and Kuro were not sure.

Omasu murmured to Shiro that they should leave Misao alone for a bit, so they slipped out of the kitchen.

The past week had been a battle of wills between Aoshi and Misao, and they could only watch and standby. One was the former Okashira now again Okashira. The other was Misao, who they had all helped raise, who took leadership when the Oniwabanshuu needed a leader, and now was cast out from all Oniwabanshuu business.

As soon as he returned his title, Aoshi made a decree that Misao was indefinitely to be bar of all Oniwbanshuu business. She had been shocked and angered.

Not only to be cast from the leading position...but to be cast from all Oniwabanshuu activity all together.

It was more than a slap in the face. It was denying her access to the life she had always known. She was, whether they liked it or not, a child of the Oniwabanshuu, had grown in the life of a ninja clan, and she thrived on it.

Her pride as a ninja and Oniwabanshuu was apparent always.

And this...

Aoshi knew how to delivery crippling blows quite well, it seemed, on and off the battlefield.

Misao didn't notice the two slip out, too lost in her thoughts. She was still angry at Aoshi's decision. The gall of man made her blood boil. She felt like he managed to slice her heart more with mere words.

He was a lethal man indeed, in actions and words. It had to be revenge, she decided.

This was him punishing her more for taking the title of Okashira.

First he returns and forces her to marry him.

Then he takes back the title.

And then goes a step further and removes her from all Oniwabanshuu activity.

The bastard. The heartless bastard.

Megumi thought he might have a heart?

If so, then it was buried beneath layer after layer of the coldest ice.

He was more demon than man she felt.

And she was this devil's bride.

She rummaged for more powdered tea, a special blend she enjoyed that she had recieved from Kaoru on her wedding day.

One more week...and then Megumi's drug would be gone. And then...she would have to fend for herself.

Even drugged, Aoshi made little attempt to take her, moreso he just quietly accepted tea and glared out the window. Perhaps his fascination with attempting to seduce her had faded to bitter indifference.

She wasn't blind. She knew he was still angry with her. She didn't care. His indifference was better than his seeming lust.

She could, much to her chagrin, remember his hands on her face. The pressure of his lips. She loathed it. Loathed that she couldn't forget, loathed that for all displeasing feelings they held that she had...enjoyed it a bit.

Part of her wished she could remember him from her youth, despite her resilience it was getting tiring, the emotional toll the events were taking on her. Maybe if she could remember, maybe it would be easier.

Or worse. If she remember the Aoshi she supposedly adored, would it not be more heartbreaking what he was doing now?

Sleeping next to him every night...she didn't sleep much the first couple nights. It was only when she was assured he wasn't going to move that she could rest. It was difficult, the warm body next to hers.

Sometimes in sleep she would shift and draw close to him, and wake up appalled. She would rise and go about her business, leaving him to wake up alone.

One more week.

All she could do was wait and see.

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Aoshi was all too aware of the awkward heaviness of his limbs as he finished training in the dojo. He had been slower lately and it was puzzling. He wasn't sick, even though he was oddly enough sleeping soundly through the night and late into the morning. That was off itself, for he seldom slept well anymore, and always awoke shortly after sunrise.

Perhaps it was everything going on. Perhaps even he was inescapable to wariness.

And yet still...

Something wasn't quite right.

He wiped his forehead and sheathed his kodachi, walking to grab his gi top which he had removed before training. Clad in only his black pants, he took his belongings and left the dojo.

As he passed through the door he almost collided with Misao.

He looked down at her, noticing she was in her Oniwabanshuu uniform of gi and shorts. His eyebrows drew together.

She looked up at him, disdain in her expression.

"What are you doing, Misao?"

"You may have cut me off, temporarily, from the life I've known, but that doesn't mean I can't still train. If you would please get out of my way."

He didn't move. Her frown grew.

"You are just hellbent at making my life completely miserable, aren't you?" she whispered, her gaze casting downward.

Aoshi sighed, feeling even more wary.

He reached for her, a hand on the top of her head, one on her shoulder.

"Perhaps one day you will realize this was for the best."

He murmured, and then he was walking away.

Misao stood there, still.

For the best...

He sounded so...exasperated.

For a brief moment she wondered if she was wrong about him. For a brief moment she wondered if there was something more to his motivations.

And then the brief moment passed, and she was still angry.

How was any of this for the best!

She hated that she didn't push him away just then, that she couldn't help but smell his scent and feel the warmth of his hands, feel the rumbling of his voice.

Her mind may have been set on shutting him out, but her body, her traitorous body, seemed more willing to accommodate.

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He was, to say the least, surprised as he looked over the last of the reports he had read over since morning.

He had finally decided to sit down and take stock of what Misao had done with the Oniwabanshuu and was rather surprised by what he read.

She had not ruined them, had not made childish error.

Her efforts, while clearly novice, were...

Not too bad.

She seemed to understand a lot more than he'd think, and going over mission reports were enlightening. She did not possess the ruthlessness or stoniness he had in mission orders, and there were some errs in her judgement.

Yet for the most part she had kept the clan going strong.

For such a slip of a girl without the capability of being coldhearted and cruel...she had done remarkably well even.

He had learned early on to hide his emotion and be cold. To be ruthless. Cruel. A killer.

He had served as Okashira in a time of war.

Misao had served as Okashira in a time of peace.

It was odd sitting in his old chair again. It felt different in a way and yet so nostalgic. He wondered how she would look sitting there. Like a child pretending? Serious? Had she found the position difficult?

He wondered momentarily if taking his title back had been for the best. She clearly had some competence for the position. They lived in different times now...

No. He needed this. She still had other things. Family. The Aoiya.

This... was all he had.

This and his unwilling wife.

Setting the papers down, he got up and left his office to head for their quarters.

He figured she'd be there, preparing tea.

It was odd, that for such a disobedient wife, she always made tea for them before bed. Perhaps it had been part of her 'wife lessons' growing up. She had been partially trained to being a proper wife, perhaps tea was such a thing included.

He slid open the shouji, and surely enough she was there kneeling in the center of the room, a light pink yukata on as she whisked two cups of tea up. She gave him a brief side glance, then looked back at what she was doing.

He watched her for a moment and then crossed the room to sit across from her. Usually he wore a yukata around, but today wore his black pants and shirt that he had returned to Tokyo in.

Misao did not want to think about that day too much.

She offered a cup to him, watched with cloaked anxiety as he accepted it and drank. It was nerve-wracking as usual. She waited for him to finish, slowly sipping her tea. Soon enough, he was stumbling to the futon and collapsed.

Misao sighed and cleared the tea set.

One more week was all she had left.

She felt her stomach churn slightly with unease. What would happen on that night when she could no longer drug his tea she could not guess.

If he ever found out she had been drugging him...

Misao shuddered, clearing her mind from those thoughts as she blew out the candles and settled next to Aoshi on their futon, keeping a space between them as she stared up at the ceiling before falling into a fitful sleep.


	5. Loverboy

Author's Notes: Yes. The smex is on. Clean version is link to lemon is at shinobi love.

So since you can't like, you know, post links here, just type in ShinobiLove in a Yahoo! Group search.

Yea. Off to collapse is sheer exhaustion.

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Chapter 5: Loverboy

_'loneliness is a fraud, going with the flow  
Wonder tonight, be getting your jaded heart  
tonight, shaking your blood'_- Loverboy, L'arcenciel

He still felt it, the grogginess. It was becoming unsettling. It was harder to wake up with the usual ease he once had, his head feeling as if it had been stuffed with cotton. Normally he could wake up and be alert in an instance. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed, leaning back in his chair.

It was almost time for lunch, and he had only gotten a fraction of his paperwork done. He hated feeling unproductive compared to his usual standards, he was the type who always sought to complete something when it was started.

His revenge on Battousai was the one deviation, though he supposed making peace with it was a form of completion itself. As long as something started was resolved. He just disliked unfinished business.

It was more than stress, what was occurring in his life at the moment paled in comparison to the ghosts of the past. He should have never assumed stress. Was he ailing in some way he could not detect? He felt no pain...

He made a note to stop by the doctor, discreetly.

Looking back to his paperwork, Aoshi put his worries aside to focus. Aside from Oniwabanshuu business, it appeared the Okashira duties extended to Aoiya business at well. Having grown up in the facility, he knew Okina had always taken care of that work, but it seemed things had changed since.

Now he had inventory forms and sale intakes sitting before him, and he was just thankful he could make sense of almost any paperwork given to him. Okina had handed him the papers earlier, simply telling him what notations he made on inventory and what the desired income was daily.

So this was the most prominent of work for the once highly active ninja clan? How the times changed it seemed.

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Misao's hands felt painfully dry from washing dishes all day. Her hair felt limp and stuck to the back of her neck and it was just bothering her. She hated this. She missed not being obligated to do this kind of stuff anymore. Okina hadn't forced her to do any chores in almost two years.

That man, that _husband_ of hers...

She'd like to see him do dishes!

"Misao-chan, that's plenty enough. Go upstairs." Okon said, appearing in the doorway.

"And what about his lord high horse?"

"Aoshi-sama is off somewhere on business. Now you get out of here. Really Misao-chan, you were never good at doing dishes anyway."

Misao furrowed her brows.

"Yes I was!" she said, walking past Okon and out of the kitchen.

As she neared the stairs, it was at that moment Aoshi chose to return.

They paused and looked at each other.

"Where did you go?" she asked, sick of always looking like a cowering puppy at his feet.

"Business." he murmured, walking past her and up the stairs.

"I realize that!" she snapped, following him.

They made their way inside and she shut the door behind them and then gulped realizing she was alone in a room with him.

He made his way towards his dresser and she watched wide-eyed as he shed off his trench coat and shirt.

"W...What are you doing?"

"Changing."

"Couldn't you wait until I left?"

He turned to face her, his chest bare. Misao found herself unable to look away.

"Why? You are my wife. Even if we have yet to partake in the physical aspect of our marriage."

She blinked, and then turned.

"I'm going to make some tea."

She left to make the tea, and was upset to realize it was the last night of the drug. All her frustration at her situation was coming back tenfold.

She grabbed the tea set, and carefully slid the pouch containing the drug from her sleeve. Mixing it into Aoshi's cup, she sighed.

She still felt twinges of guilt for it, but like he felt sorry for putting her through all he did?

Carrying the tray upstairs, she wondered what would happen tomorrow. Unable to subdue him and cause him to sleep. Would he really force himself on her? She didn't really want to think of it more and suddenly longed to be sixteen again, unattached and free.

She set the tray down in the center of the room, and handed him his cup. He accepted and sipped.

As she sipped her tea, she felt like squirming under his gaze. He always looked at her so...intensely when they had tea.

"Misao-chan!"

She looked up, hearing Omasu's voice.

"What could she want?" Misao murmured, standing and taking her tea with her.

Aoshi watched her go, and set his cup down.

He loved tea, but he was getting sick of it before bed. He preferred to stop drinking tea after dinner, but Misao did go to the trouble to make it, regardless of her feelings for him.

He stood up, padding to the window and opened it, looking out at the starry sky. The moon was a sliver of pale gold, and he could see the river in the distance and hear the chirp of grasshoppers.

It wasn't too warm that night, and the air felt good.

He was wondering again, if that had been the best course of action. Misao's animosity bothered him slightly more than he cared to admit, but his bitterness towards her balanced it. The lust was still there, but had seemed to dim the more into business he got and the more apprehensive she was to be alone with him.

When he thought about it, the two were never alone for long periods, when he was awake anyway.

It was still troubling to him, his sleeping so much.

His thoughts enveloped him, so much that he did now notice that almost half an hour had past and Misao hadn't returned.

He assumed Omasu was having Misao help with cleaning up the Aoiya.

He looked back at his tea and picked it up. As he went to sip, he noticed an odd film at the rim, and wiped it.

Smelling it, he gazed into the liquid to see a white powder has settled to the bottom.

His eyes narrowed.

He recognized the powder almost instantly and everything clicked into place in his mind. Her odd eagerness to serve tea every night, his sudden fatigue, her nervousness at night.

His petite wife had been drugging him, probably since their wedding night.

Taking the cup to the window, he poured the liquid out, and went to set the cup back to the tray.

So this was how she was evading sleeping with him.

He almost respected her cleverness, it was indeed a ninja-like thing to do.

He felt his anger rekindled.

He moved the futon, and laid back. If she could be deceptive, so could he.

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Misao entered their room, sighing in annoyance.

"Damn Omasu, I was not in the mood for cleaning."

She looked over to the futon to see Aoshi asleep, and moved to clear the tea tray out of the way. Stretching out her arms, she laid down on the futon and yawned. She could feel Aoshi's warmth next to her, despite the inches of distance.

She wondered, would she ever get used to it?

She closed her eyes, unaware when Aoshi's opened.

She gasped as he pinned her, she had long gotten somewhat accustomed to him being asleep by the time she retired. He was clearly awake, his body rigid and taut above hers, crushing. His eyes, which were normally ice cold, were burning.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

Her lower lip trembled, her eyes wide.

"I...I..."

"Nothing to say, Misao? There is nothing you can say that will spare you now. You've delayed the inevitable long enough." he murmured, his voice a mixture of gravel and huskiness that made Misao tremble all the more.

Her heart was racing, her skin was flushed, her eyes wide...

Even in his anger, Aoshi could not deny how beautiful and tempting she was. Maybe part of him could understand she did what she did out of desperation, but the demons were unleashed and his blood was boiling.

She would learn never to deceive him again. She was _his_, and he was going to make damned sure she knew it.

His lips covered hers, initiating an cruelly deceptive gentle onslaught of kisses. Misao almost wished he was rough, it would be easier to resist. She knew drugging him was wrong, no matter what she told herself. When it came down to it, he was her Okashira once more and she had committed the worst betrayal within the Oniwabanshuu: betraying the Okashira. If he chose to, he could kill her and Okina and the others couldn't do anything to save her.

He pulled the sash of her yukata, pushing the thin, peach colored material aside and away and he moved to press his mouth against her shoulder and collarbone.

It wasn't a romantic seduction. It was chaos and lust.

She had given in to him, but put up a good fight in the process.

When it was over, when both were sweaty and heavy of breath, she pushed him off of her and sat up slowly to reach for her yukata.

She said nothing, and Aoshi made no move to reach for her and say something.

She slipped into her yukata and scooted away from him, leaving a large distance between them as she turned on her side with her back facing him.

He didn't look at her. He looked up at the ceiling, trying much to not think of what had just occurred. He knew his back was probably bleeding from her scratch marks, his skin red and purple from her teeth.

He didn't think of it.

She had fit so perfectly against him, felt so good...

But he wouldn't think of it.

Or think of the next time he would take her.

He could hear in the dead silence of the room her even breathing, knowing she had fallen asleep.

For the first time in a while, Aoshi did not sleep.

Perhaps this marriage was inadvertently the penance for his sins. Would he always have to go through so much to bed her? Did he want this to happen again?

It was a time as such that Aoshi wished he could be so simpleminded as to not dwell on it anymore.

But his mind did, and he was to spend the night drowning in somber and heated thoughts, and to desperately try to once more contain his inner demons that had been released so unexpectedly by his petite wife.

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I'm not terribly satisfied with this chapter, but whatever.


	6. You

Author's Note: I need to stress something important here, Aoshi did NOT rape Misao. You really need to read the full version at my site, forgot to make a note of that. You have to add the www part cause of formatting. Yea.

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Chapter 6: You (Anata)

_Unable to sleep, I look up at the moon in my window...  
Thinking back, since that day  
I'd walked the stairway which stretched off into the sky  
one step at a time but, no matter where my eyes searched  
there was nothing, nothing I could believe in.  
but in happy times, and sad,  
you were there with me_

It was late morning, but Misao didn't care. Her back had long since gotten numb laying on the futon, but she dared not move. To move, to get up...she would have to ultimately unfreeze. Last night...last night she had done what she had sought to prevent from happening- she gave herself to Aoshi.

She couldn't even say he forced her- she went along with it, she ultimately gave in to his seduction, she let him, she participated. And she didn't hate it, no, not with the moans she made and the way she writhed.

She was almost sure it made her hate him more. Why had her will abandoned her in the face of dark temptation? Maybe it was self-loathing that kept her still. Maybe it was the soreness of her body. She didn't know, and wasn't sure she was ready to contemplate it all.

As golden sunlight spilled in and colored everything in honey hues, she momentarily wished she could return to childhood, away from such burdens of adulthood, and in another moment, the thought was gone. It was no use wishing such things, she had kissed her childhood goodbye years ago, the day she declared herself okashira, the day she met a stranger on the road, the day she took vows.

She was a woman, the last lingers of childhood gone last night, because of Aoshi. And she could only half hate it, because the other half enjoyed and was lost in the carnal pleasures.

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Aoshi sequestered himself in his office, speaking to no one since passing Omasu in the hall and having her greet him.

There was no need to feel guilty.

As he sat in the room, only filled with the noise of the outside world, he wondered why he felt the need for solitude which was suspiciously more like self-exile.

There was nothing to be guilty about.

Misao...she was his wife. He did as a husband should after going so long without consummating the marriage. It was inevitable and she had committed betrayal by poisoning him.

Most men would have wrung her pretty little neck without any explanation.

She had gotten off easy, even pleasurably he would think.

Maybe she never intended to be bedded by him, maybe she fought it at first...but she had succumb to him. She had participated and enjoyed it, if her moans (which he had secretly delighted on eliciting from her) were anything to say.

So then why?

Why did he feel pangs of guilt gnawing at him like an angry spider?

Such a complicated mess he placed them in. He wondered why it was he couldn't accept and forgive that she had presumptuously taken his title in his absence...but secretly knew the reason. If he did, it would have made everything he had done to her thus far appalling clear and laid out to tear him apart in more self-loathing and guilt.

And guilt and self-loathing had been his companions for some time now, and so desperately seeking to reconnect with the only place he ever saw as a home, to plant his feet on the ground and root himself down, he would shed such feelings...or so he thought.

Now it came in waves, ebbing out when he kept telling himself she was in the wrong, then crashing and drowning him when he stopped telling himself such...

He wasn't sure which moments were clarity or self-delusion, and wasn't ready to decide.

He didn't want to see anyone's face, didn't want to see thinly veiled accusation for surely everyone knew what had occurred last night. He especially did not want to see her face... so pale, those wide blue eyes, those lips in a frown because of him...

He did not want to see the loathing in her eyes, no matter what he told himself upon marrying her. Sometimes he could still see traces of that little girl, a little girl who wouldn't dream of ever looking at him with disdain. Not anymore. He had destroyed that image for good, now all that was left was this woman, this little slip of a woman who he knew better than anyone but also was a complete stranger.

He wondered, had he stayed...would she now be his wife or be more of a sisterly role? Then again, had he stayed he would not be the same person as well.

No, best to not dwell.

Sighing, he looked down at his desk at the ledgers and papers before him. Work. Just work. Think of nothing else for now, just work.

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"I'm going camping."

Omasu looked up from over the pot of miso soup she was cooking and blinked.

"What?"

"Camping. I'm going camping for a few days." Misao announced, sitting at the counter as she ate a small bowl of rice.

"Alone? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Don't fret over me, please. I just need to get away for a bit."

Omasu pursed her lips and sighed.

"Does Aoshi-san know?"

"I don't care if he does. If he asks, tell him. He doesn't own me, despite what he thinks."

"Misao-chan, he might not be happy if you just leave."

"I don't care, and neither should he. He's gotten what he wants. If he finds his bed needs warming, I'm sure the ladies down the street can help him."

"M..Misao-chan!"

Misao gave Omasu a half-hearted smile.

"Don't be so shocked, I'm not an innocent little girl anymore."

"Just be careful and make sure you pack enough food. I assume you're camping at Place C?"

"Yes."

"Aa...you always loved camping there as a kid, not sure you remember. You were always so excited to go whenever Aosh..." Omasu trailed off.

"Whenever what?"

"I guess you don't remember, Aoshi-san used to take you camping there all the time. You always loved it."

Misao set her chopsticks down.

"Oh. I just thought of Place C for some reason...figures."

"I wonder...if it's for the best or worst that you don't recall much of him."

Misao didn't answer. She set her chopsticks down and left the kitchen wordlessly, passing Okon as she left.

"What's the matter with Misao-chan?" Okon asked, letting her hair down from its intricate style.

"She's decided to go camping and doesn't care what Aoshi-san thinks. I think she just needs to get away after last night."

"You heard too? Poor girl, this whole thing is really a mess. At least she ended up enjoying it." Okon mused, running her fingers through her brown hair.

"Yes, but probably not so much when morning came."

Okon sighed and moved to stand next to Omasu to grab a bowl of rice.

"Maybe we should speak to her when she returns, try to make her feel better?"

"If she'll listen. I just feel so bad for her. She's completely miserable." Omasu sighed.

"And to think, she used to dream of marrying him. It's what she trained for."

"She doesn't remember that, you know that. Even if she did, would it be any better? She might feel even more betrayed."

"Say Omasu, do you think she'll start remember more about him now?" Okon asked as she moved away from the stove and stood at the counter, grabbing a pair of chopsticks.

"I don't know, but I really hope for her and his sake as well that they come to some sort of understanding. Aoshi-san went through some bad times since being gone, but you and I and everyone else here knows he's not a total villain."

"Maybe he needs to realize that before Misao-chan can. So, you'll be telling him she's gone right?"

Omasu blinked, and began laughing nervously.

"Well, since you're the bolder of us I was thinking you could."

"If he asks, I'll tell him. Otherwise, it's on your shoulders since I wasn't here for Misao to announce it. I'm sure he won't kill the messenger. Just glare at them."

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Misao sat down on her unrolled mat, glancing around the small wooden lean-to like structure. She had changed from her cranberry colored kimono to a light blue gi and matching pants, her braid pinned up and hidden under a bamboo kasa. She had packed light on supplies, and after unpacking them she realized how tired she was.

She took her kasa off, setting in down next to her as wisps of her hair fell into her face. She looked out at the forest and noticed the sun was low in the sky and the blue was melting away slowly to tinges of orange and pink. It was late afternoon, probably would be night in two or so hours. There was a good chance she would fall asleep before that, her exhaustion catching up to her more than she realized. She didn't need a mirror to tell her she had the dull purple slashes of dark circles under her eyes, or that her face was ashen.

Exhaling, she fell back sprawling, feeling a dull ache in her back and legs from hiking and carrying her bag. Years ago, she wouldn't be worn like this. She was accustomed to long walks and having more stamina. But then...she had begun donning kimono and wearing geta and practicing tea ceremonies and more lady-like behavior. Lessons that, back then, she wasn't really sure why she went through them. She just always knew she had to do it, ever since she was little...ever since she could remember.

'_Misao-chan promises to learn to be a fancy lady so I can be your bride someday!'_

Her eyes, which had drifted shut, fluttered open. Where had _that_ come from? It was an obscure memory that flew through her mind like a delicate butterfly. She had never remembered that before.

The scent of forest, the wood smell of Place C, a tall figure shadowing over her...

Was that...Aoshi-sama?

Aoshi-sama...

She couldn't think anymore. Wouldn't, couldn't, shouldn't. Her voice then, that memory felt too much like a happy one. So innocent. So naive.

Her eyes closed again, her breathing evening as Misao drifted asleep amidst the sounds of the forest.

_Fishing. She loved fishing and splashing in the water._

"_Misao-chan will catch a big fish for real this time!" _

_Splash! _

_Surrounded by water, drowning, it was cold. Hands. Hands were grabbing her and pulling her out of the watery darkness. Light. She could open her eyes, warm arms were holding her tiny body tightly._

_She coughed, momentarily struggling to breath._

"_I'm sorry, Misao-chan wasn't careful and fell in!" _

_The arms tightening, she buried her head into the warm chest._

"_It's alright, Misao."_

"_Misao-chan is always okay when Aoshi-sama is around!"_

"_Aa. I'll never let any harm come to you."_

"_Promise?"_

"_As best as I can, Misao."_

Her eyes fluttered beneath her closed lids, but she didn't stir. She kept on dreaming. Short memories. Forgotten things. The tall shadow at her side. Happy memories. Warmth. Protected. Love.

Was that Aoshi? Her Aoshi-sama of childhood? She never remembered before, it was all like a watercolor that had water spilled on it, the image distorted and blurred away.

Something was brushing across her nose, tickling. Her eyes opened to see a leaf on her face, and when she blinked and rubbed her eyes, she noticed it was early morning.

She had slept so long.

She sat up slowly, brushing her bangs out of her face slowly and rested her chin against the palm of her hand.

Her stomach felt unsettled and borderline nauseated from not eating dinner. Groggily, she turned and grabbed her bag, pulling out a small pot and rice and a jug of water. Before she did anything else, she needed food.

Her head hurt, not so much physical pain, more like a heavy feeling. The grey and lavender sky was bleeding orange from the mountains, the sun was going to rise soon, maybe within the hour. As the water boiled for her rice, she absently wondered if Aoshi had noticed her gone and if it angered him she did not ask permission to leave. Not that she cared.

He always did worry when she ran off.

What? He always what?

Where had that?

And then it hit her. Her dreams which where memories.

She didn't remember everything, just some things. Moments, events...but...

No matter the size of the memory, the content was just as impacting.

She remembered the feeling, the feeling of Aoshi then.

And it was startling, awakening, crushing, confusing.

The bubbling of the water caught her attention, and she poured the rice into the water.

Back then...she would never loathe him. Never refuse him. Never look at him with anything but warmth.

So young, so innocent, so devoted to her _Aoshi-sama_.

Her lower lip trembled and she told herself it was just from hunger. She was not going to cry. No. Not over him.

It was the steam of the water making her eyes water. Not Aoshi.

Who used to hold her tiny hand, kept her safe, told her bed time stories. Who forced her into an unwanted marriage, cut her from the Oniwabanshuu, made her give into him...

She refused to cry over him, even as tears fell down her face. But she wouldn't whimper or sob. She would let them fall silently. She still had her pride.

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Oh the drama, or something like it. My back is hurting so..later.


	7. Cradle

Author's Note: Busy busy. So very busy. I think I remember sleep. This will probably be a short chapter. My brain is shot. I basically live in Berkshire Hall where I have class, not at my house anymore. Last night was first actual meal I've had all week. Desperately sipping coffee at the moment.

Viva la penguins.

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_Don't breathe, just close your eyes  
Let's just entrust ourselves to the flow. _

Chapter 7: Cradle

He stared out the window, the trees and city scape blurring towards something he ignored as his thoughts ran.

Misao was out in the woods somewhere, the Oniwabanshuu felt their loyalties divided between himself and Misao, and the Mibu Wolf was tailing his every move.

Not the worst of times, but not the best for Aoshi.

Some lumped their problems together to find a common solution, but Aoshi was meticulous. Each problem or crisis had its own category, stacked neatly in his mind rating on importance, each with their own probable solution.

The Mibu Wolf was only a slight irritation, nothing would come of any investigations. The Oniwabanshuu would accept the changes in time.

Misao was another story all together.

Once he could easily predict her actions and her moods, but then in those days it was always his approval she sought.

He sighed, turning away from the window.

Now she was a dilemma he couldn't solve so easily.

He looked on his desk at the paper crane he had absent mindedly constructed, and sat in his chair and grabbed it and turned it in his hands.

So many of these he had made for her, such a childish thing, but for her he didn't mind. The smile she gave him upon receiving one was reason enough.

"_Aoshi-sama!"_

_He looked up as he watched her form bouncing towards him, a smudge of dirt on her cheek and a big toothy grin on her face._

"_What is it, Misao?" he asked calmly from his seated position on the large rock in the backyard of the Aoiya._

_She skidded to a stop before him, catching her breath._

"_Jiya says there's a new sweets shop in town that sells this chocolate mixed with cinnamon and it's really good!"_

_Aoshi smirked at her, noting her big shiny eyes...usually her way of being cute when she wanted something._

"_And does Misao want to go?"_

_She nodded furiously._

"_I suppose it couldn't hurt, but do not indulge too much in sweets Misao. It's not good for a growing girl."_

_She nodded again._

"_Okon-san said I'd better be careful cause then 'Aoshi-sama would have a riceball for a wife.'"_

_Aoshi sighed at the reminder of his future with Misao. Would he? Could he come to love her such a way? Could he be the right man to wed her?_

"_Okon-san is merely teasing and should speak for herself."_

_Misao made a "hm" noise of agreeance as Aoshi got to his feet and picked her up, setting her on his shoulder as they headed for town._

Aoshi opened his eyes, the memory receding like a wave.

"I should have never left." he whispered to himself, a confession he would never admit again.

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Stubborn.

Stubborn and willful.

Yes she had been called both things by her family, by acquaintances. That she never learned when to quit.

Her the thin layer of sweat on her skin had already long since cooled adding a sickening sheen to her already gloomy pallor. Her skin felt clammy and hot and cold all at once, and the way her clothes clung to her was a constant irritation.

She had developed the fever hours earlier, too stubborn to know she was not well prepared to be camping in the woods. It had gotten so cold that night. Her stress was of no help either.

Now she was ill, and still had roughly half an hour before she'd be back at the Aoiya, a reluctant return that felt much like a defeat. If she didn't go home, though, her condition would only worsen and she was sure her fever was getting worse.

She also had a question. One that had been burning on her tongue since her memories of youth decided to dance behind her eyes.

One she didn't want to ask. One she desperately wanted an answer to. So many things could hang on the answer, or there would be nothing relevant in the outcome.

It could go either way depending on his feelings to the matter, and unfortunately it was easier to discern the feelings of a slab of stone than those of Shinomori Aoshi.

But no matter the outcome she needed to know to gain some intangible sense of peace. Or perhaps closure.

"_Misao..."_

_Five year old Misao looked up, her head having been resting on her tucked up knees as she hugged herself in the corner of the kitchen._

"_Aoshi-sama...There are monsters after me!" she cried, her hands shaking._

_Aoshi walked over to the young girl, kneeling down before her and collecting her in his arms, holding her._

"_What makes you say that?"_

"_O...Omasu-san said t-that monsters would come get me if I didn't stay in bed at night and I was going to but I was thirsty and I wanted some milk and then there was creaky noises..."_

"_Misao, houses creak at night. There are no monsters after you, despite what Omasu says."_

"_But..."_

_He looked down at her and wiped a tear from her face._

"_Misao, I won't let any monsters harm you."_

"_Because monsters are scared of Aoshi-sama?" _

_Aoshi smirked softly, bittersweetly._

"_Aa. Even monsters are terrified of a man like me." _

Misao sighed.

"But you never said you'd end up the monster."

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Ash flitted through the air like dull gray and white confetti, trailing to the ground but never daring to fall on the highly polished black boots on the man occupying the shadowy corner of the alley across from the Aoiya.

The outline of a navy uniform and the occasional orange glow of the cigarette being inhaled were the only clearly visible things he gave away from his position, enough that he merely appeared to be wanting to smoke in solitude, hidden enough to not be seen by any of the Oniwaban.

Most who would recognize him would simply greet him with a 'good afternoon, Fujita-san' and be on their way.

Fujita Goro, the workaholic policeman with a wife and three sons who was always busy. By the book Fujita who always filled out his reports timely, always smiled politely to those who greeted him on patrol, always stopped when an elderly woman would comment that his boys were getting bigger and bigger each day, or to comment on what a respectful man he was.

Fujita Goro...the sheep's clothing he wore to mask the wolf underneath.

He had observed that the little weasel had taken off for the woods, probably a lover's quarrel. Shinomori had spent much of his time in his office. Thus far it seemed as if the Okashira was simply tending to restaurant business and Oniwaban reports. There had been no bodies mysteriously turning up, nothing that would relate to any business of Takeda Kanryuu.

Perhaps the man who left a wave of bloodshed in Tokyo was gone. Or perhaps he was hiding behind a mask, like he was.

Either way, he would keep his eye on Shinomori a little more.

A movement caught his eye and he noticed the Oniwaban weasel walking towards the Aoiya looking as if she had seen better days.

Were he a more sympathetic man he would have worried about her sickly demeanor and perhaps even offer to help her inside.

But Saitoh Hajime was not that kind of man.

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He watched the door open and watched as she slowly stumbled into the room, her breathing labored.

It was obvious she had fallen ill, but that she also had something to say if the determined look on her face was any give away.

"You've returned." he commented.

"Hn. I wasn't going to yet but...there's something I need to know." she said, placing her hands on the edge of his desk to keep her balance as the room began spinning.

_Not yet...let me get it out.._

"What is it you wish to know?"

Taking a shaky breath she looked him in the eye.

"Why...why did you leave?"

_Me._

And then world grew black.


	8. Blurry Eyes

Author's Note: I'm not dead yet, but close if stress keeps pouring into my life. Financial Aid matters are horrifying, really. :groans:

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"_the afternoon sunlight which touches your eyes,  
empty like those of a caged bird,  
is a light which seems to be inviting you to come out..."  
_  
Chapter 8: Blurry Eyes

"I suspect she has developed a fever in relation to stress combined with spending time the woods. As long as she rests and gets plenty of liquids the fever should break and her health will recover. And please do tell your wife to relax a bit more to ease whatever stress she's apparently been under."

Aoshi nodded, escorting the elderly doctor to the door where Omasu stood and gave a cool glance to Aoshi before smiling politely to the doctor and leading him out. Aoshi watched them for a moment and then turned back into the room, sliding the shoji shut behind him.

He kneeled next to Misao, who wore a plain white yukata as she slept in her futon. Her breathing was slightly uneven with discomfort from the fever. Grabbing a cloth out of the bowl next to the futon, he squeezed out the excess water and patted her face gently with it, then placed it on her forehead.

Misao moaned softly in relief.

She'd been asleep for almost a day and half, the inhabitants of the Aoiya riddled with worry as they awaited the doctor. He was well aware of the disapproving glances in his direction from the women. They naturally blamed him for Misao's condition because it was he who was causing her distress.

So be it. He didn't get where he was in life by worrying about others' opinion of him. Though where he was currently in life was become a debatable issue more and more.

He simply decided other matters were more important to worry about than the scattered mess of his life. Sometime soon he was going to have sort it all out. But for now he had his wife to worry about.

It was becoming more and more familiar to think of her in such terms and not as a strange, surreal concept. Not that he had the right, it was he who decided this path for them in a blur of anger.

"This is all your fault...you know."

He blinked, startled as he looked down at Misao. Her eyes were half-open and she was looking at him with a neutral expression. He was sure had she the strength her face would be in that scowl it made when she was displeased. The first time he had ever witnessed that face was when he wouldn't allow her to go to a summer festival when she was four.

He poured some tea from the pot next to him into a cup. She sat up slowly, groaning.

Without thinking, he supported her. She didn't shrink away from his touch and she accepted the cup, sipping slowly.

He sighed.

"I know."

And left it at that simple statement. He wasn't going to deny his part in her falling ill.

"At least you admit it."

Aoshi took her cup and set it down, helping her lay back.

"I assume that your childhood memories are completely resurfaced."

It wasn't so much a question as a statement.

Misao looked away briefly, murmuring a 'yes'.

"Perhaps we should talk about this when you have recovered." he said.

"Why are you here taking care of me? Are you trying to get me to trust you or something?"

Aoshi frowned, but couldn't entirely fault her for her suspicion. It would be strange to her for him to be caring for her, a man who since his return had done nothing but twist and turn her life as if to weave it into his own chaos.

Her remembering him completely was most likely causing conflict for her. The man he was then seemed more and more lost in a haze of dust from roads far off, unable to be seen in the distance any longer.

"I am taking care of you because you are my wife."

"And so you suddenly care so much about me?"

He remained silent for a moment.

"I've cared for you since the moment I first held you in my arms when you were a child."

Her cheeks flushed pink and she turned her back to him.

"Could you go now? I want to sleep more."

"That is fine."

She listened to the sound of his clothes rustling and waited until she heard the shoji slide shut to let out a shaky breath.

Her suspicions remained, but then there was something nagging at her. Aoshi never lied. He wouldn't reveal things, but he never lied. She was starting to hate remembering such things about him, because then she remembered the warmth he used to show to her as a child and it made part of her wonder what if?

What if he had never left the Aoiya? Would things have been different? Would they have grown closer? Would they have arrived at this path of marriage on different terms?

There was only so much pushing away of thoughts she could do. She was going to have to really face it all head on, because running away never got her anywhere. She just wasn't the type to run away from a problem, until Aoshi came back in her life. She needed to face it all so she could try to start being herself again.

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"I'm sure he's had his reasons for forbidding her to be involved."

"Oh he sure does, Shiro, he wants absolute control of the Oniwabanshuu!"

"Omasu, Shiro, this might not be the proper time to discuss this." Okina interjected as they were seated for dinner.

"I don't think Aoshi-san has any truly vile intentions, but I don't think we can exactly trust him right now either." Okon said, voicing her opinion as she popped a piece of unagi roll into her mouth.

"I think we should have some faith in him. He was our leader years ago before leaving for Tokyo." Kuro replied.

"But that was then! Who knows what kinds of things have warped his mind! I mean he comes back and forces his hand to marry Misao-chan, and then takes the Okashira position from her and forces her out of all Oniwaban business and has been nothing but cold and unfeeling! It's like a demon with his face has returned in his stead."

"Omasu, that's enough." Okina interjected again, stronger this time.

"But..." the words died on Omasu's tongue as she saw Aoshi's looming figure in the doorway, his expression neutral.

"Aoshi, come and sit." Okina said, as if they were not talking about him.

Aoshi took a seat next to Okina and poured himself a cup of tea, taking a sip. He set the cup down carefully, and looked up and glanced around the table slowly.

"I want you all to listen and do not interrupt. You are all understandably upset by my actions, especially towards Misao but remember this- the position of Okashira was never hers to take, despite my absence. Her grandfather trusted that position to me as well as the well-being of his grand-daughter. She was never meant to have been part of the Oniwabanshuu or the shinobi life, and yet it happened. There are things about this life, things one sees that she should never have to witness or be part of. She is not a person who should ever have blood stain her hands such as mine have been so thoroughly stained. Perhaps my actions towards her were indeed harsh, but Misao was intended to be my wife since she was a child. It wasn't something I was too agreeable with, but I made the promise."

He took another sip of his tea, pausing momentarily. It was rare for him to speak so much at once, but it was most certainly words that needed to be spoken.

"My only intention as Okashira is to lead the Oniwabanshuu. I have...made mistakes but I cannot apologize for being cold and unfeeling as it was how I was trained to be. So you understand why I found Misao unsuitable for leading this group. The mask of a demon would not place well on her. You may not trust me, you may dislike, but regardless I am your leader and you will respect that fact. If not, you may leave."

And with that, dinner ensued in awkward silence.

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Three more days passed and Misao's health had returned in full swing. It was almost terrifying the way she emerged from her room as if nothing had happened with a determined smile on her face and dressed in a waitress kimono.

She breezed through the restaurant as if she had no cares in the world. She even seemed to flirt with some of the customers, and would pass Aoshi without a word or a glance. If he was even remotely jealous he made no show of it.

Omasu and Okon asked Misao frequently during the day if she was alright, and always received the response of "better than ever". As the last customer left for the evening, Misao passed Okina and whispered something in his ear. He blinked then nodded, and watched Misao exit to the living part of the Aoiya.

Sighing and finishing a dish of sake, Okina walked over to where Aoshi was doing paperwork and patted him on the shoulder.

"And is restaurant paperwork as exciting as the other paperwork you do?"

"It's different."

"Well, take a break from it. Misao-chan wants to speak to you upstairs in your office."

Aoshi's eyebrow arched.

Okina watched Aoshi leave and Omasu and Okon quickly took seats across from Okina, their eyes intent.

"Okina, what is going on! First Misao-chan is acting like NOTHING in the world is wrong..." Omasu began.

"And now Aoshi-san's doing paperwork and going off to talk to Misao-chan cause she wanted him to!" Okon continued.

Okina laughed and stroked his beard.

"I don't know exactly what's going on, but it seems Misao-chan is back to her usual self, and very much so. I don't think Aoshi knows what he's getting into, but I'm glad she's snapped out of this mood she's been in."

"Okina! You get forced into a marriage you don't want and then see how you feel!"

"Now now girls, it was simply meant to be and it makes me glad knowing Misao-chan will be taken care of when I'm not here anymore."

"And you trust Aoshi-san with her?"

"I wasn't sure at first, but now I am. I trust Shinomori Aoshi completely."

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Sliding the shoji open, he saw Misao calmly seated at his desk. It only slightly irked him.

"You wanted to speak to me?" he asked, feeling as if he was _her _serving shinobi reporting to his leader.

"Yes. I want my answer. Why did you leave?"

He sighed.

"After the war, when this era began, it was...difficult for most to find a place in it. Hyottoko, Besshimi, Shikijo, and Hannya were men who thrived in the Tokugawa era, but had no place in the peaceful Meiji era. They were outcasts, myself just as much. We had lived by our strength and skills, fighting is what we knew. So I made the decision for us to leave to find where our skills would be needed."

"Then why did you leave me behind?" she asked after a moment, fighting the urge to bite her lower lips.

"Because...I didn't want that life for you. It was not the life any of us wanted for you. You'd have been exposed to things...harsh things we wanted to spare you. You deserved to have a normal childhood."

"But maybe that wasn't what I wanted! Did you even consider than when you just left without a goodbye!"

Aoshi moved closer to the desk, resting a hand on the ledge.

"Misao, you were a child. It wasn't the life for you. I considered every possibility and I still wouldn't have changed my decision. You've viewed my decision as heartless and callous I suppose. I did not say goodbye, because I felt it would be easier. It would have been...difficult to have tell you I was leaving because I knew what your reaction would have been like. I didn't want to waver in my decision the slightest. After everything that happened...the things that happened when we left the Aoiya, I am even more sure it was the right decision."

"Howso?" she asked sharply, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him.

"If you had came with us, you would have ended up with blood on your hands or dead, and then I would have truly failed your grandfather...and you. I would have never forgiven myself."

She inhaled sharply when he reached across the desk tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear.

"If...I have caused you such terrible grievance then I am sorry, Misao."

Her lips parted, forming a small "o". As much as she steeled herself to have this conversation, he still managed to take her off guard.

Because she had her answer...and she was finding it impossible to find any valid fault in it because he had, in retrospect, done the honorable thing by leaving her behind. The lingering of the child in her who had felt betrayed was the only resonating protest to it.

Finally she spoke.

"I...accept your apology." she murmured, standing up and walking around the desk to leave.

As she passed Aoshi she paused, as he called out her name softly.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Your shinobi status is restored on a limited basis. Even if this wasn't the life I wanted for you, it is the life you've nonetheless led all this time."

She blinked, then mutely nodded and left the office.

Only when she was at her door did she let out a huge breath.

A week ago she was sure she loathed her husband. Now...she wasn't too sure.


	9. Trust

Author's Note: I'm not dead yet! Just struggling with this. --;;;

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Chapter 9: Trust

"_Come into the light  
Can I meet with a distant kindness?  
Come into the light  
Can I sleep in the embrace of joy?  
Come into the light  
Have the flames of war gone out?  
Come into the light  
no doubt it's a world like one out of my dreams,  
into the light.."_-

They moved through the inky shadows, two blurs in the alleyways moving towards the more seedy part of Osaka. The inebriated merchants and businessmen dangling the porcelain doll-like geisha from their arms never noticed that two intruders had penetrated their world of cigar smoke and staling sake.

Having reached the alley across from their destination, they stopped. Aoshi signaled for Misao to remain quiet. He was dressed in Western clothing, brown tailored pants, a matching vest, white shirt, and darker brown jacket. Misao was wearing a maroon kimono and obi and her hair was done in a braided bun, her lips painted a startling scarlet and her eyes lined black.

They looked as if they could fit into the world they were intruding, just as they had planned. When the mission to spy on those suspected of treason against the Meiji government came across his desk, Aoshi knew he himself couldn't do it alone. It would be too suspicious for just one man, but if it was a man and his companion seeking debauchery...

And so he ordered Misao to accompany him. Her small frame was deceptive, making her appear vulnerable and Aoshi could rely on that. He also understood that trust was something lacking between them still, and he was faced with the task of building it between them. It was why had not considered Okon or Omasu. Both didn't possess the false frailty Misao could portray, and he knew bringing either would displease Misao.

The trip to Osaka by carriage had been quiet, something Aoshi was getting used to between them, but still found strange as Misao by her own nature was not silent. She wasn't quite resistant when he gave his orders, because it was Oniwaban business and she was craving to be involved again.

He knew she'd never taken assignments such as this, and maybe now she'd understand what it was like- cloaking oneself in deception. If there was to be trust, she couldn't be blind any longer to this part of their lifestyle. He wouldn't shelter her from it.

They approached an inn that doubled as a tavern called Kuroneko, one of the more respectable places in the seedy district. It was a brothel, indeed, but it was a very discreet one. Aoshi watched a portly man stepped outside dressed in a brown yukata and lit up a cigar.

"That's Murata." Misao whispered, recognizing him from his file's description. In the silence of their carriage ride, Misao had re-examined the files given to them over and over until she had every detail memorized. According to her, if she read something over a few times she could have it completely memorized. It was interesting to see the serious, attentive side of her.

It made him wonder just how much skill of hers had been overlooked over the years.

The two passed the man, who gave Misao a long, lecherous glance. She merely pursed her lips in a coy manner and giggled, pressing herself closer to Aoshi as they entered the inn. The smell of spirits and smoke permeated the air, and the lamps were lit low.

They were greeted by a hostess, whose black hair piled on her head was probably once rich and glossy, but now had the signs of dulling.

"Good evening. Would you like a table?"

"Yes, and room for myself and my companion."

The hostess nodded in understanding, a gleam in her eye.

'Companion' meant mistress in the district, for seldom few brought their wives to such a place unless the wives themselves were as depraved as their spouses.

They were seated towards the back of the room in a corner, and their waitress poured them both a dish of sake.

Misao took a small sip, letting the liquid's sweet burn fill her mouth.

"They're all at the table over there in the center, except for Murata and Daido."

Aoshi glanced across the room where all the men they were assigned to observe sat in yukata, enjoying the company of several women, most likely the prostitutes of the house.

"Do not watch them too closely, Misao." he warned, looking at his dish of sake. He would have preferred water or tea.

She brought her gaze back to him with a look of slight annoyance, and then she blinked as she noticed him looking at his sake.

"Is there something wrong with your drink?"

"No. I do not care for alcohol."

"Oh? Most men would disagree." she murmured, taking another sip of hers.

"I cannot tolerate it."

She almost choked on her sake, swallowing it awkwardly.

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

Misao was utterly torn between laughing and keeping a straight face.

A slight smirk cracked its way to her face.

"Well, the perfect warrior admitting to a flaw. Next thing I know boars will fall from the sky."

He looked at her oddly.

It was the first time he had ever heard her teasing him...and she picked in the middle of spying to do so.

If Aoshi was prone to laughing (which he wasn't too terribly prone to, though), he would have probably had to chuckle a bit at that. Instead he opted for his usual route and just gave her a look, which made her shake out of her teasing mood.

Misao kept sipping at her sake, and pursed her lips. She didn't know where the sudden teasing had come from, but it had been a rather... pleasant moment between them and the strange look that appeared on his face was rather comical. It was almost as if...

'As if we were a real married couple.' she mused.

Since being sick, Misao had slowly come to terms with the situation and began the process of sorting her feelings and thoughts out once and for all instead of putting it off for later. Her anger at the circumstances leading to their marriage had dulled to annoyance and she found herself curious about the man she was now married to, the Aoshi who wasn't quite the same Aoshi who took her fishing and taught her the way of the kunai.

Her initial feelings that he was a cold and heartless bastard who wanted nothing more than to make her as a possession had been shaken by his attention to her during her illness and observing his daily actions and interactions.

It had dismayed her to admit it, but Aoshi was actually rather good at being a leader despite having the resentment of much of the Oniwaban. He thought clearly, made practical decisions, and seemed to have the best interest for them in mind, even though she at first thought it all an act.

Even though she was still annoyed with him, she couldn't help but sometimes find herself wondering what an actual marriage between them would be like. She still found it silly how she had grown up learning to be a proper Okashira's wife, thinking it a game and never understanding she was promised to Aoshi from the beginning.

She always thought it was a game, and now it a reality.

"Misao, go easy on the sake."

His deep voice broke through her thoughts.

Instead of responding she simply lifted her dish and gulped down the rest, setting the dish down with a thud.

It was childish yes, but she found herself suddenly enjoying the cross looks she managed to put on his face.

She no longer feared what he would do, and it was strange realizing she wasn't afraid of him anymore. It was another thing that had occurred in her observations of him, the nervousness she felt around him had lessened and almost completely disappeared. She no longer feared sharing a room with him, as he since that night their marriage was consummated slept across the room from her in his own futon.

It seemed like the strange and dark desire and tension between them had fizzled away, or was just hiding. Things had changed when she had been ill, and it seemed as if there was this tentativeness between them, as if they were subtly restarting the way they interacted with each other.

She also liked to theorize that it was a sign that Aoshi was getting more of his sanity back and becoming less of the bastard she had met on the road who made unwarranted advances on her left and right. He was back to being the solemn, stoic seemingly passionless man he apparently was back in the day.

Just what she wanted, right?

Suddenly she felt warm and a bit fuzzy, her mind muddling. She stole a glance at her empty sake dish and groaned.

"I warned you." Aoshi stated, getting up and walking to her, helping her rise to her feet.

"Where are we going?"

"Upstairs. It's probably best you lay down before you can't stand."

She huffed.

"I'm not that bad at holding my liquor!" she exclaimed, and felt herself sway slightly. Aoshi put a hand against the small of her back and led her to the hostess where he inquired about their room. Soon enough they were upstairs and in the small room.

It was a simple room with a desk, dresser, and large futon in the center of the room. Settling her down on the futon, he heard her sigh.

"Sake and spying don't mix well, I think."

"No, it doesn't Misao. Go to sleep, I'll be back in a moment."

Misao turned to her side and Aoshi quietly left the room and went downstairs to the bar.

One of the waitresses stood behind the bar, and noticing him she smiled in what he supposed was to her a seductive one.

"What can I get for you, sir?"

"A cup of green tea please. My companion isn't feeling well."

The waitress clucked her tongue.

"That's the problem with the younger ones, they don't know their limits." she laughed, and went to prepare the tea.

He watched her go and rubbed the bridge of his nose, wondering why women like that were always that way towards him. Always batting eyelashes and giving him those smiles.

Not that he gave them any of the same attention in return. He never understood women sometimes.

"Here you go. If you find your companion too indisposed, I'd be happy to further accommodate you."

Without reply he left her money for the tea and turned around and walked away, ignoring the angry look the waitress was giving him.

He entered their room again, and sat in the chair at the desk and took a sip of the tea that was supposedly for Misao.

It wasn't that he lied to the waitress, it was merely espionage.

XxxxxxxxxxX

Misao opened her eyes with a groan, lifting her head and glancing about the room until her eyes settled on Aoshi seated at the desk.

"_Eugh._"

Aoshi turned to look over his shoulder.

"Are you unwell?"

"No, my head's just a little unsettled."

Grabbing a pitcher to his left, he poured her a cup of water and walked over to her, kneeling next to her and handing it to her.

She gulped it down with appreciation.

As she set the cup down, she noticed him peering at her.

"What? What is it?"

He ran a finger against the side of her temple.

"Your make-up is smudged all over."

She blinked, and reached to the corner of her eye and felt the makeup smeared against her skin. She examined the pillow she had pressed her face against and noticed the black of her eyeliner and the red of her lip stain.

Closing her eyes and wincing in embarrassment, she stood up and went to the dresser where another pitcher of water for washing stood next to a basin and towel. Pouring water into the basin, Misao dipped the towel in and began wiping her face clean until no trace of make-up remained.

Reaching up to her hair, she took out the pins holding it in place and set them down as she unbraided her hair and ran her fingers through it.

"How long was I asleep?"

"An hour."

She walked back to the futon and sat down on it.

"Did you do anymore spying without me?"

"Some. I took a walk around the building but it seems the men all retired for the evening."

She snorted.

"And I highly doubt with the intention to sleep."

As soon as she said the words she bit her lip and looked away.

Aoshi stood up from his seat at the desk and walked to sit next to Misao on the futon.

"Misao, your actions tonight were rash and showed poor judgement. If you are to remain on this mission and on any further missions, do not behave in such a manner again."

"Then don't treat me like a child! 'Misao, go easy on the sake'. I was raised by Okina! Of course I know to go easy on sake. Earlier was an exception because you pissed me off."

"Even so, you need to be more rational in judgement Misao. You express frustration as being treated as child, but you also are prone to acting like one on the occasion."

Narrowing her gaze at him she leaned closer to him.

"Really? But not childish enough that you decided you wanted to marry me and make me your woman, if I recall were your exact words?"

"Misao, this is not the time for that discussion."

"Why not? We're alone and out targets are pre-occupied. I think it's the perfect time for this discussion. I'd rather we at least have a marriage where we can speak openly."

"Fine. Speak."

Misao pursed her lips and then realized all the things she wanted to say, all her questions and speeches on 'how one does NOT gain a wife in her book' all seemed to not matter as much as they were eclipsed by what Misao now considered a most important question.

"What do you want from me? This marriage?"

Aoshi let her question absorb in, and thought carefully on his answer before replying.

"In honest, I do not know anymore. At first it was because I was...displeased with the cource of events in my absence, but also at the time I felt it was my right. You were always intended to be my wife."

"Would you have married me if you hadn't been mad at me? Had I not taken your title?"

"I think it would have been a longer engagement as to re-acquaint ourselves better, but either way the results would have been the same. As I've said, I promised long ago to marry you and after everything..."

He paused. Did he want to reveal that much to her? Of the seemingly simple desire he had held onto on the journey home.

As he looked into her large aqua eyes, he realized he did want to tell her. Let her where no one else had been.

"Aoshi-sama?"

"Misao...after what happened in Tokyo, I was void of everything at that point and it took me time to recover enough to come home. On the way I had decided that the only path for me to move forward was to return to my position, to my home. Settle myself at the Aoiya and to the only place I felt remotely at peace."

"Ohhhhh..No wonder you were so pissed at me for the Okashira thing then."

"Misao."

"Yes, yes, I'm listening." she said, sitting up straight and to attention.

"When I saw you on the road, and realized it was you I had been surprised by my...reaction to how you had grown up. In the back of my mind that marriage promise lingered. Regardless of events, Misao, I would have married you one way or another. You were raised to be my wife, you know the people, the life, the business, have skills necessary..."

"You make me sound like some sort of business investment...or like a horse for trade or bargain." she murmured, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

Aoshi made an intake of breath. How did horses come into this conversation?

"Regardless," Aoshi realized this was quickly becoming his favorite new word where Misao was concerned, "There is no other woman that comes to mind more suited to be my wife."

"Why Aoshi-sama...how romantic."

He was going to reply when he sensed something.

Misao noticed.

"What is it?" she asked, fighting the urge to not look around.

"We're being watched from the trees outside."

Misao gulped.

"Can they...hear us?"

"No. Only see."

He rose to his feet and approached the large window of the room with the intention of sliding the shutter shut when Misao ran towards him and stopped him.

By jumping up on him and wrapping her arms and legs around him as she pressed her mouth to his and kissed him.

Before he could respond, she pressed her lips to his ear.

"Aoshi-sama, if you shut the window they might know we know we're being watched. We can't afford that."

_Clever girl._

Aoshi definitely knew then his wife was one who should not be so underestimated.

"Misao, are you sure you're..."

Misao pressed a finger against his lips (although smacked would be more accurate).

"Business is business, Aoshi-sama." she huffed, wrapping her arms around his neck again and pressing her mouth to his giving the appearance that they were kissing, whereas in reality Misao was more or less biting on Aoshi's lower lips pressing her mouth to the side of his.

Moving her hands, she pulled off his jacket and unbuttoned and removed the matching vest. Her hands fumbled with the buttons of his white shirt. He put his hands over hers.

"Misao, we don't have to.."

"Yes we do! We're supposed to be some debauched couple engaging in an affair and we need to keep our cover up. I've already botched things a little so there's no way I'm letting it get screwed up now. Besides...we're married. It's not like...this is new or anything." she mumbled.

Did she think?

Aoshi took his hands from hers and let her continue.

"Misao, we're only going to pretend to be intimate."

She paused, her eyes blinking up at him.

"W-what?"

"On missions such as this, those posing as a couple only put on an act. I see no one explained this to you?"

"No..Omasu and Okon were...uncharacteristically vague when I asked them about missions like this. Ugh! Those two are getting an earful when we get back!"

"Misao, be embarrassed later."

She groaned, but realized he was right. Slipping the last button lose, she removed his shirt and bit her lip.

Aoshi really did have the most beautiful physique. The perfect mixture of lean and muscle that was neither too thin or too bulky. His skin wasn't too tan nor pale, and sure he was maybe perhaps too tall...

She was broken out of her reverie by Aoshi untying the sash of her obi and unwinding it from her waist, which caused the layers of her kimono to loosen and droop.

"Get on the futon and under the covers." Aoshi commanded.

Misao followed instruction and did as he said, hoping whoever was watching them was only trying to see if they were who they said they were and not inclined to lechery.

_There's no being embarrassed in spying, Misao! Focus!, _her mind chided.

She watched Aoshi undo his belt and toss it aside and found it momentarily funny how she never thought she'd wind up in this position.

_With a half-naked Aoshi-sama over you? _

Sometimes she hated her thought process.

Aoshi moved towards her and kneeled next to her on the futon, lifting the covers and joining her under them as he settled above her and moved his mouth to her ear.

"Follow my lead."

Misao nodded as Aoshi wrapped his arms around her and pretended to make love to her.

It was the oddest mixture of strange, embarrassing, thrilling, and confusing Misao had ever experienced and found herself at odds with the fact that she was a- enjoying it despite the awkwardness, b- wishing it wasn't just an act, and c- she was unable to deny that she was becoming attracted to her husband.

And it wasn't just because he was physically almost perfect and kissed so well and made her feel heated...it was the leadership side to him, the way he commanded himself and the Oniwabanshuu as of late, the subtle ways he cared when not showing it...

Things she initially hated to admit to or didn't want to notice because then it would mean she was wrong about him, that he wasn't so terrible, and that maybe he was able to change. Yes, he'd been in err. His methods of courting a bride were debatable and she was rightfully mad in him removing her from Oniwabanshuu business for the short time she was, and he didn't display feelings very much, and sometimes didn't talk much, and most days seemed more of a statue than anything...

Everyone else at the Aoiya, Okina excluded, seemed merely to accept that, but Misao knew there was more to Aoshi, as did Okina.

She recalled the time Okina remarked to her what a whimsical child she was. Perhaps he was right. She'd gone from loathing Aoshi to confusion to reluctant acceptance and observation to now wanting to know him better and feeling an attraction for him. Capricious, indeed.

She shifted, readjusting herself under Aoshi's weight and suddenly moaned in pain.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his gaze meeting hers.

"I have a cramp in my calf." she whispered and groaned as she moved in experimentally which made her body shift more and made Aoshi take a quick inhale of breath.

"Misao...don't move like that."

"Why? Will it make it worse?"

"The situation, yes."

"How would it make the situ...oh. _Oh._" she said, realization dawning on her and she remained still.

Aoshi moved himself slightly, so that her movements would not affect him as much.

Misao ran her fingers through his bangs and gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, Aoshi-sama."

Aoshi stifled the urge to groan.

"Don't apologize."

From a distance away, shaded by the leaves of the branches of a large oak tree, golden eyes narrowed at the scene of the couple yards away in their room locked in an embrace.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Who is the spy with the golden eyes? Saitoh you think? Maybe not or maybe so.

For those who waited forever and day for this chapter, I do apologize, but life has a massively funny way of throwing one some curveballs, fastballs, kicks in the ass, etc. etc. and robbing your time. I really had intended for this chapter to be done much sooner, but c'est la vie as Minako's Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon Single says.


	10. Milky Way

Author's Note: Yeah, I've been hitting a wall story-wise here if you could tell from the mass time between chapters. I tend to get really bad writer's block at bad times. :sigh: This year was also made of crazies.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Chapter 10: Milky Way

"why deep in your eyes, are you lost, avoiding the obvious?  
if you open the door to your heart, I'll come to get you soon.."- Milky Way, l'arc en ciel

As she sipped her tea, Misao pondered on the embarrassment and silliness of the situation the night before. It was shortly past dawn, Aoshi was off about the town spying while he insisted she remain to spy at the inn.

More like keep her out of trouble, was the underlying subtext. Biting the rim of the tea cup, a bad habit she was forming when stressed, she sighed and put the cup down. She wondered who it was who was spying on them and if they'd already been found out. That made no sense however since they hadn't done anything to raise suspicion.

Unless it was a party unrelated to the current mission. But who?

Her mind drew out a list, and the most logical answer she came to was Saitoh. Yet he was in Kyoto, was he not? Would he have strong enough conviction to follow them here? She knew he was keeping tabs on Aoshi, and yet to go so out of his way?

Unless it was one of his agents, but then in things of this nature Saitoh seemed to do things alone.

Her thoughts were broken as she realized a woman was standing before saying hello.

She looked up at the painted face of a geisha, a rather tall one, dressed in a light blue kimono with bright green flowers in a pattern.

"Can I help you?" Misao asked.

"Excuse my intrusion but I couldn't help notice you were alone. I saw you yesterday with your companion and I had intended to say hello but it seemed you wished for some privacy."

"Oh yes, we traveled quite a ways."

The geisha nodded.

"I work for the owner and like to make sure all new guest are greeted and having a pleasant stay. Is your room to your liking?"

Misao rather wished the geisha would leave her alone so she could have no distraction in her observations, but then it did provide a good cover for her spying.

"Yes, thank you."

"I would hope you liked it, it has the best view. Well then, good day." the geisha said with a nod of the head and as she walked off Misao had noticed the geisha had very unusually golden colored eyes.

After her tea, she headed back up to her room after taking a brief tour of the inn and decided to keep record of their mission for reference using the written code of the Oniwabanshuu. As a child she had managed to coerce Kuro and Shiro into teaching it to her over time as a source of amusement. It was sneaky really, the way she managed to coerce her elders into teaching her Oniwaban skills without realizing just how much (though still in her opinion not enough) she was learning. She'd learn the codes and protocol from Shiro and Kuro who made it out to be a game. She'd learn the basics of being kunoichi from Okon and Omasu, in between them teaching her feminine skills like cooking and sewing and writing poetry and such. Okina taught her their history with pride.

She took the bits and pieces she had learned and patched them together like a quilt in her mind, and when she grew older did her best to fill in the holes by keeping her eyes and ears open and observing everything.

She tried once to use this reasoning to persuade Okina to let her go on missions, but he dismissed the notion, claiming she didn't have all the skills needed.

'And whose fault is that?' she had reasoned.

So she set about to continue learning what she could and when the time came she took a stand for herself and did what she believed to be right- taking the mantle of Okashira in Aoshi's prolonged absence.

They could all protest and point out the irrationality of it, but blood was blood and her blood was her grandfather's blood- a fact they could not protest.

Then Aoshi came back, claimed the title and her in one fell swoop and she was unable to stop it. Maybe had she tried harder, but if not for that old promise!

In truth, had she been better prepared surely she'd be able to work around that. She had taken a title she had grown into, not ready for, even if blood inheritance deemed it hers. It was Aoshi who been groomed for the role, Aoshi who had bled for it, not her.

She had defied her fate for a brief while, but it seemed truly she was always meant to be an Okashira's wife in the end, not the title itself.

Being female was sometimes quite unfair.

So she would dutifully take notes and wait, but Aoshi was definitely going to learn he had not married a very submissive woman, a fact he should have gleaned by now.

XxxxX

Aoshi returned to their room sometime later, and was greeted with Misao sitting on the futon scribbling into a small, leather bound book.

"Did you learn anything valuable, husband?" she said, an ironic note in her voice on the last word.

"Aa. I intercepted a correspondence from our parties."

She paused and set her notebook down, and lifting an arm up with her hand outstretched.

"May I read it?"

He took the letter out from his coat and handed it to her.

Her eyes skimmed it over quickly and she folded it up, setting it down next to her.

"So it seems they have wishes to overthrow Meiji-sama's government. Is his Highness really unaware of the amount of corruption around him?"

"If he is aware, he will not show it. This letter was sent with what I presume is a false name. It's addressed to a sake shop in Tokyo."

"So whoever it is really for won't leave a trail. How clever. Are we to apprehend our parties ourselves, or deliver word to the police?"

He removed his coat and set it aside, seating himself in the chair across the room.

"It is usual for us to gather evidence and deliver it to the proper authorities or parties to handle it. This came to us as a tip of unusual activity from one of our affiliates here and so it is for us to decide who to handle this matter. Other times we are contacted by a party to gather information and present it to them."

Misao rolled her eyes.

"I know that very well, Aoshi-sama! I was asking as to who should handle this matter since it is that sort of mission. You brought me for my skills and now you seem to pretend I don't have any and tell me to wait here?! I'm not the kind to just sit and wait while you do all the work!"

"You are angry?"

She growled, throwing her hands in the air.

"If you were planning on making me sit around here, I could have stayed home."

Aoshi crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes.

Any other kunoichi would have followed his orders without complaint, clearly with Misao is was treading in different waters.

"It is easier for a man to be about than woman, and one of us had to stay here if anything were to happen here."

"Well then why didn't you just say so?"

"I've never had to answer myself to others when on missions."

"Well I'm not 'others'!"

"Misao, you need to stop disregarding authority. The Oniwanbanshuu does not tolerate such behavior."

Misao bit back a fuming retort. He could very well send her home at any moment's notice. She was only even allowed to participate again in Oniwanbanshuu business by his good graces, which itself seemed like an irony.

"I'm going to take a bath." she muttered, standing up and bustling out of the room and nearly slamming the door shut.

Aoshi stared at the door, brows furrowed.

Marriage to Misao was certainly an interesting affair.

The young woman in question practically stomped into the room adjoining the outdoor baths and grabbed a towel as she slipped off her yukata and slippers and set them into an empty cubbyhole and wrapped the towel around herself. She was thankful her hair was already up in a bun. Walking to the edge of the bath, she dipped a foot in and was pleased that the water was just hot enough and waded in through the steam which seemed much like a thin fog and sat to rest her back against the a large rock. She seemed to be the only one around, but then most residents in these parts seemed to be wont to sleep through the day due to nightly activities.

Inhaling deeply, she sank further into the warm water until it covered her shoulders as she exhaled loudly in pleasure. She really did love baths like these, and made a mental note to visit more outdoor baths back home.

Her momentarily peaceful thoughts were interrupted as Aoshi came to mind again.

"That guy! He needs to learn he can't treat me like most other women. Maybe I wouldn't have an authority problem if everyone wasn't always decided what's better for me as if I don't know."

The sound of rippling water broke her out of her angry thoughts as she looked around through the steam unable to see anyone else, but felt there was someone around.

"Hello? Is anyone here?"

Suddenly, hands shot up and one grabbed her by the throat, the other covering her mouth to muffle Misao's scream.

"Do not scream, Makimachi-san, I ask but a word."

A hard, golden pair of eyes met hers and Misao knew those eyes. The geisha from that morning! Now the woman's face was devoid of powders and pigments to reveal a swarthy complexion. There had to be something remotely comical about the situation, Misao reflected, two women struggling naked in a bath. It was the sort of almost lewdness the men around would love to witness.

The woman moved her hand and Misao took a hasty breath.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"A spy like yourself you could say, and we are both interested in the same prey for very similar reasons."

"And are you working for or against the government?"

The woman chuckled.

"I am sided with the law, we are more or less on the same team and as such I suggest you and your husband abandon this mission. There are bigger wolves out there to catch these filthy lambs."

"So you say, but who do you actually work for? Who else knows about this?"

The woman removed her hold of Misao and stepped back a bit.

"I have said all you need to know. Heed my words, little Oniwaban."

Misao watched the woman seem to disappear, as Misao tried to follow but her towel was slipping and unfortunately modesty won out of determination.

"Shit." she muttered, splashing the water in frustration.

It appeared this was not going to be a simple mission after all. Her annoyance at Aoshi would have to be put aside it seemed, for he needed to know of this latest development.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"She had yellow eyes?"

Misao nodded as best as she could as Aoshi examined the slightly red skin on Misao's neck from where the other woman had grabbed her.

"Well more like gold, not as intense as Saitoh's, his are sharper. I think she's the one who was watching us. I wonder who she works for."

"She was probably telling the truth about being on the same side, if she were aligned with Murata she wouldn't have revealed herself. I have a suspicion but...I could be wrong."

"Do you think you know who she is?"

"I don't think it could be her. The woman I am thinking of went inactive upon her marriage and chose to live a quiet life raising her children."

"Oh, hmm. Either way, she's nuts if she thinks we'll just give up. We aren't right?"

"No. I don't think you'll have any bruises."

Misao rubbed the skin of her neck.

"Good thing I have tough skin."

"We should try to finish this mission as quick as possible. The letter is a good amount of evidence, and your notes as well."

"So who will the information go to?"

"At this point, the police here in Osaka. It would do best for Murata and the others to be apprehended as soon as possible."

"Luckily they've been the type to drink excessively and let it loosen their tongues. They seem to like to spend time in a private room downstairs. I'm sure they don't bother to hold their words there."

"Could you infiltrate their party?"

Misao grinned. So he was finally going to let her be of use!

"No problem, I can be very charming to men with money."

Aoshi frowned at that and wondered if Misao realized the implication her words intended. She saw his scowl and laughed.

"Have I struck a nerve? Don't worry Aoshi-sama, I won't let them get too frisky."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her close, his mouth moving to her ear.

"They will not touch you, Misao."

"Ah...I was only teasing." she whispered, pulling away from him.

"I'm not." he said simply.

"Do you really think I'm the type to cheat?!" she yelled. Did he really think she was capable of acting so low?

"You are not happy being with me." he explained.

"You're wrong!" she retorted, and blinked in surprise at her own words. That was not what she expected to say at all, and apparently neither did he.

She had been unhappy with the situation at the start, that was true, but lately...he wasn't so terrible or horrible to be around and she didn't feel like yelling at him quite so often.

She was grateful Aoshi decided to stop talking, which she was finding at times like this a very good quality about him.

When he did speak again it was of strategy. Misao would flirt with Murata and his men and worm her way into spending time with them to overhear their conversation while Aoshi would remain close enough to back her up, but far enough that it wasn't obvious. He also would keep an eye out for the geisha/spy woman.

Misao was very careful in applying her make-up, and made sure to well conceal the kunai under her kimono. She once more looked like a lurid porcelain doll, and fought the urge to scratch her face at the itchy powdered makeup.

She slipped downstairs ahead of Aoshi and easily spotted the group of men as they stood about relaying food and drink orders. Thinking over several ways to approach, she decided on a tried and true method.

As she walked by, she conveniently tripped on her geta shoes and sure enough was helped by one of the men, a very bony man in his late thirties, and she smiled prettily up at him and thanked him very much.

A smarmy grin appeared on his face as he asked her if she was alone and she replied her companion had decided to abandon her for another and that she was in need of company. She lowered her head and peered up at him through her lashes, another maneuver that seemed to work wonders of men.

Soon enough he was practically begging her to join them, and the other agreed, especially when she covered her mouth with her hand and giggled in practiced demureness. She followed them, allowing the bony man whose name was Furusawa, to lead her on.

She paid close attention to Murata who led the group into the private room where a hostess was ready to pour them sake. Misao made sure to make a show of pouring her own and serving those around her.

By then, Aoshi would be seated at the table closest to the hallway leading to room with his tea. She made a good sure of appearing not very clever or aware of what they were talking about, shyly asking Furusawa what they meant. She would make sure her ankle pressed against his, and from the flush on his face and leering smile, she was very confident she would find out a great deal.

"I expect the letter will soon reach Tokyo, and we can begin our next step." Murata said, after practically inhaling his dish of sake.

"Are you sure no one has wind of our plans, Murata-kun?" a short, balding man, Daido, asked.

"There's some talk of the Kyoto police having some mild suspicions but nothing to sweat about. The officer with the suspicion is too busy most of the time in soba shops talking nonsense. I have no worries over him."

"Ah well then, that's good. And what of our friends at the castle?"

Murata smirked.

"Business as usual. Meiji is very unaware of the dangers close to him. It's only a matter of time before he is overthrown."

Misao fought back the intense urge to smile at how freely they spoke in front of her.

"And you pretty little thing, what was your name?" Murata asked her suddenly.

"Momo." she replied softly.

"Ah, what a pretty name. Tell me Momo-chan, what do you think of the government?"

Misao forced herself to blush and looked down shyly.

"I don't know very much about it, sir."

Murata laughed.

"You're such a cute, little thing. What do you know then?"

"Oh I couldn't speak so boldly!" she said, covering her mouth with her sleeve.

The men all laughed, and Furusawa found it acceptable to pat her on the butt and Misao repressed the urge to punch him in the face.

"Very cute indeed! A shy little rabbit, you should have been named Usagi!"

The men laughed again at the joke and Misao giggled along.

_This man is a total idiot!_, she thought.

She spent another hour with them, and pretended to be upset when Furusawa explained they had business to attend to, but promised he'd return later if she was still looking for company. She smiled, pressed herself closer saying she would see.

She made her upstairs, having noted Aoshi was still seated at his table, and made her way to their room and was surprised to see someone seated in the middle of the room and a ribbon of smoke trailing into the air.

"Good afternoon, Makimachi-san, or are you finally going by Shinomori-san?"

She slammed the door shut and scowled.

"Saitoh-san, what are you doing here?" she asked harshly.

"Business, which you and your husband seemed to be meddling in. I've been investigating this case for months, I don't need your little ninja group mucking it up for me."

"You?! You're the officer they were talking about that hangs out in soba shops."

"Flirted your way into the inner circle did you? Why anyone would find a bony little girl like you attractive...must've been very drunk."

She rolled her eyes at the insult, letting it slide.

"It seems like everyone is after these guys. I suppose you're going to demand information?"

Saitoh smirked, then took a drag of his cigarette.

"Do you honestly think you've found out anything I didn't already know?"

It was Misao's turn to smirk.

"Maybe you're underestimating us?"

"Hardly. Ah, here comes your husband now."

The door slid open and Aoshi saw Saitoh in their room and hastily entered, shutting the door behind him.

"Saitoh."

"Shinomori. You have some better common sense than your weasel of a wife. Leave your spying on Murata. I'm after him and I do not like others interfering."

"And how is your wife these days?" Aoshi asked, and Misao was slightly confused by why Aoshi would even asked.

"She is well." Saitoh replied, and again Misao wondered if she was missing something, as there seemed to be a spark of something in subtext between the two.

"So then, the Kyoto police are aware of this situation?"

"Indeed, and we've kept it well secret thus far which is why I'm sure you thought your organization was the first to catch wind of it. Perhaps I underestimated the reach of the Oniwanbanshuu. I was already here when you two arrived."

"Well since we all have a common goal, as much as I hate to say this, wouldn't it make sense to just team up?" Misao interjected.

Saitoh chuckled.

"Your wife is rather silly, Shinomori."

Misao was sputtering and about to retort when Aoshi held up a hand indicating her to be quiet.

"It is not a very bad suggestion. We both have the same agenda. Our information was going to go to the Osaka police as it were, but perhaps it is better it goes to you."

"Aoshi-sama!"

Aoshi turned his gaze to Misao.

"Misao, there is a risk in passing information along to a police branch we are not completely sure of, but Saitoh is not a corrupt official."

"Exactly, I've yet to have reason to bite the hand that feeds."

"What a good pet you are!" Misao said snidely.

Saitoh shot her a narrow-eyed gaze.

"A Mibu wolf will never turn lapdog. If I seem obedient it is to serve my own purposes as always. Do not forget this."

"Do you want the information or not?" Aoshi interjected, not willing to listen to the two argue anymore.

"As I told your wife, whatever you've learned I certainly already know."

"And evidence?" Aoshi asked, removing the letter from Murata from his jacket and tossing it to Saitoh.

He opened the letter and scanned it.

"Well, I suppose you're good for something after all. If I've found out you've spilled any blood over this..."

"He hasn't." Misao commented.

"Just the same. You two have no reason to linger here further and I suggest you return to Kyoto."

He dropped his cigarette to the floor and crushed it under his boot and walked out the room as Misao stuck her tongue out at him behind his back in a rather childish display.

"Why is he so intent on arresting you anyway?" Misao huffed.

"Back during the wars we were both known for our skills but never met in direct battle with each other. When he took the alias of Fujita Goro, he made it point to apprehend whoever he felt was in the wrong during the wars. He has never been fond of our organization and less fond of competition in rivalry against Battousai."

"So he wants to arrest you over Himura?"

"It's a motivation. Saitoh believed I could be a danger."

"And he isn't it?"

"He has the law on his side in this era. It's why he makes his machinations to be an exemplary officer. With the law backing him, it's a powerful weapon."

"God, I hate that guy. A lot. I can't believe someone actually married him! His wife must be a Buddha."

"His wife is as sharp as a blade. They are something of a matched partnership. You've never met Takagi Tokio?"

"You mean Saitoh Tokio? Or well Fujita Tokio? I've heard of her, but she mostly keeps to their house in the mountains. Our paths haven't ever really crossed."

"I see. Forget him for now. I suppose our mission can officially end now. We've no reason to continue."

Misao rolled her eyes.

"I suppose. Though I hate him to get the spoils of the victor."

"This is not a duel, Misao."

She gave him the faintest of smirks.

"I would think you'd be in favor of things being compared to a duel."

He didn't say anything, but gave her the faintest hint of smile back.

_Perhaps,_ Misao thought, _instead of fighting it I will start making the best of this marriage arrangement. He's not so much the ogre I think. _

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Somehow, what seemed like an unremarkable end to their mission went wrong very quickly, and not by fault of Aoshi or Misao. They had been preparing to leave that afternoon when Misao had happened to spot what looked like the yellow-eyed woman heading into the woods. Aoshi had suggested they ignore it, until Saitoh intercepted them on their way to the road out of town.

"Murata and the others are gone, but they've left some rats behind."

"Were we found out?" Misao asked, trying to keep her surprise contained to a whisper.

Saitoh closed his eyes, sighing as he exhaled a trail of cigarette smoke.

"Not you. Another interference. One we must unfortunately go collect before they dispose of her."

"So then, my notion was correct." Aoshi murmured.

"Huh? What notion?" Misao asked puzzled.

"It would appear you are not the only foolish wife to be mixed up in my business."

Misao blinked, and thought. Aoshi had asked Saitoh recently out of the blue about his wife, and insinuated Takagi Tokio wasn't much a saint either...

"Wait! That woman is Saitoh's wife?"

"I'm surprised you managed to figure that out, weasel."

"Have you pinpointed their location?"

"I have an idea."

Misao was still silently sputtering over the weasel comment but chose to ignore it for the moment as she trailed in the wake of the two, tall men as they made their way towards the woods. She followed their quick pace, making sure the weapons concealed in her outfit were readily accesible. She watched as they slowed down near a worn-down looking hut.

"That foolish woman. She knows better than to get caught." Saitoh muttered.

"How did they find her out?" Misao asked.

"She tried to play your game in spying but was never good at passing for subservant. When Murata gets suspicious he flees and leaves his rats to take care of the mess."

"How do you want to approach this?" Aoshi asked.

"Why don't we just...storm through the door?" Misao suggested.

"That's a stupid idea. And not surprising coming from you."

"Well it's not like this goon is suspecting anyone to interrupt right? Maybe it'll take him by surprise he'll be stunned?"

Aoshi said nothing, understanding the logistics and the negative aspects of her idea.

Saitoh grasped the handle of his sword.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but perhaps you are right."

"In that case, let's go!" Misao said, charging forward and this time leaving the two men in her wake.

"Shinomori, your wife is a reckless idiot surely, but she has guts." Saitoh murmured and then took off towards the hut, and Aosho followed.

Misao kicked the door open, which startled both the thug and Tokio as was part of Misao's plan. What was _not _part of Misao's plan was the thug grabbing Tokio and pulling her back to his chest and putting a knife to her throat.

As Aoshi and Saitoh entered the room, they froze at the sight of the knife.

The thug grinned as he pressed the dingy blade closer to Tokio's throat, his putrid breath filling her senses. Misao's fingers itched to reach her kunai, but she knew she'd probably not react fast enough and the thug would cut Tokio's throat. Aoshi possessed a more practiced skill in speed than her, but he was to her left and just as far across the room. And Saitoh...she grimaced with the knowledge that he was unpredictable. Surely he would act to protect even his wife?

"Don't try anything or the bitch's blood gets spilled!" the thug spat out, and Tokio grimaced at the spray of saliva against the back of her head. If there were one closely observing Saitoh (yet all eyes were on Tokio) it would be seen there was a marginal narrowing of his cold amber eyes.

"Do you honestly think you're getting out of here alive, you moron?" Saitoh drawled, crossing his arms and adopting a relaxed position.

Misao stole a quick side glance to him.

He surely was going to do something to save his wife!

"Because you can cut her head off for all I care, you'll be dead either way."

Misao's mouth opened in shock, Aoshi had yet to make any expression other than stony neutrality, and Tokio's face was still in a grimace but oddly devoid of panic.

"You asshole! You're fine and dandy with him killing her?!" Misao yelled, scowling.

Saitoh merely shot her a cold gaze which shut her up quickly.

"Honestly, I never see the woman much anyway so there's little affection on my part. Kill her for all I care."

The thug seemed unsettled by this, by the strange ease in which Saitoh felt regarding his wife's life. Misao bit her lip, keeping her comments at bay. They weren't going to help the situation. Tokio had merely closed her eyes at her husband's words, showing neither betrayal nor remorse.

"I _will_ kill her!"

"You keep saying so. Really, Tokio, getting killed by such a pathetic worm? It doesn't suit you."

It was so quick, so quick Misao almost couldn't believe she was seeing it. Tokio's head snapped back fiercely, head butting the thug and causing him to stagger back. Before he could get his bearings, she kicked his knee hard and he was sent to the ground.

The knife fell from his hand and Tokio reached down to grab it, holding it over the thug's face.

"Now listen and listen good. You will never make your presence known in this city again. You will disappear completely."

She pressed the knife against his cheek, slowly.

The thug nodded, and Tokio moved to let him go. He stood up pained and trembling, taking one frightened glance at her- and a cold amber gaze that matched her husband's perfectly. He ran towards the door, opening it and stumbling out.

"Tokio-san, are you all right?" Misao asked, running towards her.

"Just dusted up."

"Letting him live? You've grown soft, woman." Saitoh sighed.

Tokio smirked at her husband.

"I thought you enjoyed my softness."

"Tokio-san, how can you be so casual? He was perfectly fine with that man killing you!" Misao cried in indignation.

"I never expected him to lift a finger and compromise his position so there was no betrayal nor disappointment. I know my husband, Makimachi-san, and he acted just as I trusted he would. Besides, I've known how to escape such situations before I even met my husband."

Misao blinked in confusion.

"You're the last person to comment on anyone's marriage, weasel. Worry about your own."

Misao stammered, searching for words but was cut off by Aoshi's hand on her shoulder.

"It would be best if we parted ways now."

Saitoh turned his gaze to Aoshi.

"Yes, but do not think this means I owe you any favors. This changes nothing."

Aoshi didn't respond and led Misao out of the building.

They walked in silence back to the inn, where they would collect their things and begin the journey home.

"Aoshi-sama?" Misao asked, as they walked.

"Aa?"

"If..." Misao paused, searching for the words, "If I were in a situation like Tokio-san, would you just stand there and watch?"

Aoshi was silent, and Misao could only hope he was thinking critically on it.

"I would let the person get away so you would be unharmed."

"Just like that? Let a thug go? Really? I figured you'd hope I could handle it like that stupid wolf."

"I would let the man go. Then I would go after him once you were safe."

"And if I wasn't? What if the thug slit my throat anyway?"

"Then I would kill him."

Misao stopped, staring at Aoshi's back.

So those old demons really were still there. She'd speculated on it, if Aoshi had really forgone killing. Some things were hard to shake off.

"I'd rather you not." _Have more blood on your hands._

He did not reply and Misao recognized that the conversation was officially dropped. It was something really to note, Misao thought, that he would willingly revel in the demons of his past if harm befell her, even if it wasn't her wish.

"Misao, when we get home I think we should discuss matters between us."

"Matters? Such as?"

"What the future lays for us."

She nodded. So they would discuss terms like a negotiation. How do spies negotiate marriage? How silly.

How silly it all was. She didn't want a marriage of terms and stipulations, she wanted one of...

_Well, could such a man really be capable of that emotion? From your own memories and what you've been told could he feel that?_

"Aoshi-sama, may I ask one thing now?"

He looked down at her and heart jumped in her throat. She didn't want to ask this.

"Could you...could this marriage ever be more than negotiations and arrangements?"

He sighed, and ushered for them to leave and begin walking back to the tavern. Using the time, he thought carefully.

"Misao, I do not know how to be the type of man who shows emotion so easily, that was not how I was raised. I cannot promise you will not be hurt by my seeming indifference and coldness, but I...you are and always been very important to me. Despite my actions in the recent past I am fond of you."

She nodded, absorbing his words.

"Then that answers that for now and we will discuss this further back home."

She grabbed his hand, surprising him with the action, and she held tight as they walked to their destination.

He secured her grasp with his.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

I'll try and not take something like seven years to update the next chapter. Comments/critiquing much desired!


	11. Killing Me

Chapter 11: Killing Me

'_Killing me with a kiss so sweet, I almost break down_

_Don't wake me up from this dream, please, stop the world_

_I want to melt forever_

_Don't open your eyes, ah, broken time..'_ -Killing Me, l'arcenciel

_Misao-san,_

_I'm sorry to say this letter contains nothing but unpleasant news..._

"Okina, will she ever come out of Aoshi-san's office?"

Okina looked at the young, worried faces of Omasu, Okon, Shiro, and Kuro and sighed, feeling the length of his years fully in that breath.

"I think she's still in shock of it all. This is so unexpected and...she's never been this inconsolable. Not even when he left in the middle of the night when she was a child."

Omasu looked up the stairs worried.

Plates of food hadn't been touched by Misao in over twenty-four hours, since the arrival of that note by carrier pigeon. Okina had been the first to read it, and with great hesitation presented the note to Misao.

He wasn't sure how his young charge would react. He expected screaming, raging, exaggerated scheming but the stony silence. The pinched and haunted look on her face...

It was no longer the face of a child hearing bad news, as in the past. It was the face of a woman, stricken with news of a terrible turn of events.

She had holed herself up in Aoshi's office, standing by the window or pacing. She was wearing a dull, grey yukata as if her clothing were a reflection of her grey mood, the same mood that had spread over the Aoiya since the note arrived.

The mission had gone awry, Aoashi had been captured.

"We'll help her. We'll find a way. We're a family and Misao is the heart of this family." Kuro said suddenly, his hands clasped before him. Misao had always been to him a kid sister, like Omasu and Okon were sisters to him, like he regarded Shiro a brother, Okina a parent figure. Like Aoshi was family.

They would do whatever they could to help Misao in this crisis.

It was deceptively lovely out, warm, not a cloud in the sky. For once Misao wished it would rain, would be relentlessly cold and damp and pitiful outside. She fisted the plain cloth of her plain yukata tighter in his hands, not even feeling the fabric chafe against her skin.

_"Are you sure you want to do this alone? Not even take Shiro or Kuro with you?"_

_Aoshi shook his head, glancing once more at her across the room. She was tidying up, folding the futon blankets. On the walk home from their last mission, she had expressed a desire to go forward with better understanding between them._

_To be more open in communication with each other._

_For him to trust her with things and not defer to keeping her in the dark to protect her. She'd suffered it most of her life, and felt it left her unschooled in many lessons in life as she had put it in so many words._

_She expressed that she trusted him, she would let go of her grudges and bitter feelings._

_A clean state. She wanted a partnership, fidelity, she wanted to learn from him more of the Oniwanban skills. She wanted as much of a real marriage as they could give each other._

_He agreed with a simple nod of the head, collected her in his arms and held her for a moment. When his arms left her she surprised him by giving him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth._

_And now he was going away again, not for almost a decade once more, but it felt like it. A mission, a dangerous spy mission on a group of potentially revolting warriors in the outskirts of Tokyo._

_They'd gotten word of it from Takani Megumi, having said that while Himura was aware and concerned, Kaoru had asked they send word to the Aoiya and Misao so Kenshin didn't foolishly go in it with just himself and Sanosuke._

_What they had not anticipated was that Aoshi would declare only himself would be going, that it was too dangerous a matter for her to get involved and it would be in best interest to go it alone._

_"Misao, Battousai and Sagara will be involved as well. When the matter is resolved I will return. I am not so easy to kill."_

_She wasn't so grown up that didn't slightly pout in concern._

"See Aoshi-sama? I had right to worry. You stupid man." she whispered to herself, leaning her head against the window frame. There was no knock on the door, but she heard the scraping slide of the wooden shoji. Only Okina would enter without knocking. She didn't turn to face him or acknowledge him.

"Misao...," he began cautiously, stepping more into the room, "The others want to know what you want us to do. With Aoshi...well, you're Okashira by proxy."

She still said nothing and he sighed. Maybe it was best he make the decision for her.

"Jiya...I don't know what to do."

Her voice was so low, such a shaky whisper he could have easily have imagined it. She turned her head, slightly, silent tears falling down her face. Her shoulders didn't even tremble like any other time she cried.

He walked to her, and like he had when she was a child, collected her in his arms and held her tightly. She didn't sob, didn't shake, didn't scream...she just clutched at his arms and then after a moment disengaged from the embrace.

"Jiya, what should I do? I don't know...I can't think..."

"Misao, you were acting as Okashira for many years while Aoshi was away and despite my deep reservations against it you were capable and resilient. You must put your feelings aside and think rationally - if this was an assignment how would you handle it?"

She wiped her eyes, clearing her throat.

"I can't think of it like that, I can't just sit and plan. I know it's the proper thing to do but I just can't sit around and wait when Aoshi-sama could...no."

"Misao."

Flashing eyes faced him now, and she stool rigid as if she had become steel.

"No others, just me. No one would see anything dangerous in a slip of a girl, but a girl with men like Shiro-san and Kuro-san...and I will not being Omasu-san and Okon-san, they have missions to prepare for."

"You're going to do this alone?"

"No, not alone. I'll need Himura and Sagara. They owe me that much, not that they'd deny me anyway."

There was no arguing, and Okina knew it. His little girl, pretty Misao was history now. The woman, the wife, a Makimachi through and through stood before him.

"Promise me then, that you will take care and return. Who will pour sake for me at dinner?"

Her stony expression faltered, and she couldn't help the slight smile.

It was morning. She walked out the door, her short profile seeming dramatically taller as the sun caused her to be a black silhouette as she walked forward. Black, the color of the simple yukata she wore with a grey sash, colors of Western mourning. Was there a significance to the unusually dark colors for such a bright person?, Okina wonder.

When the sun blurred and faded as Omasu closed the door, he closed his eyes and sighed. He hoped she would succeed, and that Himura Kenshin and his friends would be able to help and protect her.

She wanted the Oniwabanshuu to stay, it would be less suspicious if it were just her going alone. No one would ever suspect such a young looking woman like her, but accompanied by stronger looking characters...

No matter which way one looked at it, it was still a tiger trap. As he climbed the stairs and paused before the Okashira office, something caught his attention. On the wall where the treasured twin kodachi of the late Makimachi, Misao's grandfather, had once been was now empty. He had hugged her, felt no swords against her back. Clever.

Misao knew the sun was permeating her dark clothing, was aware of the sensation of heat, but didn't really register it, like the cold press of metal against the side of her thighs strapped on by earthy leather. She knew they were there, but didn't really notice. Anyone who saw her passing by would see a slip of a girl in dark clothing, cleaving forward like a dark scythe in bright day. No one would notice the twin kodachi strapped to her legs, the set of kunai sheathed in special compartments sewn in the front of all her clothing, or the small smoke bomb she had hidden in a secret compartment of the hair ornament clasping her braid up into a bun.

Nothing was getting past her unscathed.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"It's hot out today." Yahiko mused, as he sat between Kaoru and Megumi on the porch of the Kamiya dojo. Both women looked sullen and silent, and Yahiko looked from one to the other and spat out of the piece of grass he had been chewing on.

"Are you two just going to sit around here like someone died?! As far as we know Kenshin and Sano are fine!"

Kaoru sighed.

"But Aoshi-san isn't, and knowing Kenshin and Sanosuke they won't just leave him behind."

"Or else Misao-san will holler up a storm at us!"

"Misao-chan would have every right. It _is _her husband's life on the line." Megumi countered, picking at non-existent lint on her yukata.

"Her fault for marrying a bad guy." Yahiko muttered.

Kaoru and Megumi glanced at each other, knowing that Yahiko didn't understand the nature of the marriage between the two Oniwaban.

They had gotten a note from Kyoto, Misao was on her way and from the note it did not appear she was coming to sit around and wait and mope. Another reason to worry. Kenshin had never intended Misao to travel to Tokyo to assist. Aoshi had stated before they left the Kamiya dojo that if anything happened it was clear that Misao was to remain at the Aoiya and not do anything in haste.

Sanosuke had made a smart-aleck comment, that _you really don't understand your wife too well, do you?_

"You're still too young to understand certain things, Yahiko-kun. Maybe one day you'll understand." Kaoru teased.

"I understand things just fine, you hag!" Yahiko cried out, sticking his tongue out at Kaoru.

Megumi sighed as a tongue war ensued, and it was almost as if nothing was wrong.

A shadow appeared on the horizon, a small one that took on the form of woman as it grew closer.

Almost as if nothing was wrong. Except if nothing was wrong, Misao wouldn't be approaching at that moment dressed in all black looking uncharacteristically grim.

No smile or laugh on her face, not like how she would come and go from this place.

This unsmiling woman did not have happy things on her mind at all.

"Where are they?" she asked quietly, no hellos.

Kaoru tensed, her annoyance at Yahiko disappearing.

"Misao-chan, don't you think Aoshi-san would want you to wait here? Putting yourself in danger isn't going to help!"

Misao shook her head.

"You can't talk me out of this, Kaoru-san. Don't forget that first and foremost I am Oniwaban, and I am set on this. Now, please, where are they?'

"They're on the outskirts of town, at the edge of the woods. There's an old storehouse, that's where Ken-san and Roosterhead sent word from."

"Megumi-san!" Kaoru said startled. As much as Misao was her friend, she was serious about keeping Misao from doing something dangerous.

Apparently, Megumi did not hold the same reservations.

"Thank you, Megumi-san."

Misao turned to leave.

"Misao-chan!" Kaoru yelled, "Be careful!"

Misao turned slightly and nodded and then walked off.

Kaoru turned to Megumi, scowling.

"Why did you tell her?! You know the guys didn't want her getting mixed up in this!"

"Because there was no stopping her either way, and in the least Ken-san will look after her. Besides, she loves the man. What would you do in her place?"

Kaoru didn't reply, and stared towards the horizon. The sun was bleeding into the hills, the sky red. It felt ominous.

Something was about to happen.

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Sorry this chapter took so long. All I can say is life/work is demanding.


	12. My Heart Draws A Dream

Shinjitsu no Shi

By Silver Miko

Chapter 12: My Heart Draws a Dream

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_Look, the wind has started blowing_

_Still, I'm not giving up yet_

_I can feel the sun beneath the clouds_

_even through the headwinds….. My HeartDraws a Dream, Larc en ciel_

To say it went wrong would be a great understatement. Neither Kenshin nor Sanosuke had witnessed her stoic entrance and exit from the Kamiya dojo. No, the first glimpse of Misao they saw was her literally bursting on the scene in smoke.

They had been in the trees hiding outside the compound, watching. Aoshi was being held inside, and Kenshin was sure he was still alive. The low-lives knew by now he was Oniwaban, the double kodachi a dead giveaway. Aoshi was a man of subtlety, but his reputation was not.

Sanosuke had wanted to simply go in with brute force, but there were most likely firearms involved . Kenshin wanted to go with a more thought-out plan of action. When Aoshi had been captured to allow both Sano and Kenshin to slip away, the two had no choice but to return to the Kamiya dojo. Sano had sustained a large gash on his forearm which needed stitching, and Kenshin a blow to the ribs which needed bandaging.

Now here they were, watching as Misao stormed into the compound with the aid of smoke bombs. She was at least smart enough to jump high enough to not be initially seen, but such an all-or-nothing entrance meant her going unnoticed wouldn't be for very long.

"I'll say this much, the girl has guts." Sano murmured, as he and Kenshin rushed into the compound through the clearing smoke and behind the guards chasing Misao.

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She had, of course, been caught.

As she was being held a gunpoint in the back room where all the low-life thugs and their apparent leader were assembled, her eyes never left Aoshi. He was tied to a chair in the middle of the room and had some bruises on his face and a split lip.

She was sure the stupid thugs probably thought they'd beaten him well, but to Aoshi it had probably but a trifle. The important thing was that he was alive. Whether he remained that way depending largely on what would come next.

"Such a pretty little thing causing such trouble? Tell me, what brings you at our doorstep?"

He was slick, this leader, in his Western clothing and smelling of tobacco. She would have to be careful with her words. Guile was a tricky business when you had a gun to your side. She cleared her throat and threw an insolent look on her face.

"You have something of mine."

"Oh? And what might that be? Did one of you boys steal our guest's purse?"

The thugs laughed ad the leader just smirked.

"No. Him." She said, pointing to Aoshi.

She felt the hand around her arm tighten.

"You're Oniwaban, then?" he asked, his voice tighter.

Careful, Misao, careful.

"Was, until _he_ forced me into marriage and then _out_ of the Oniwaban business."

"Oh ho, so you've come to save your husband then? How sweet."

Misao snorted.

"It had not been my intention until we were notified of you having him and forcing my hand. So I volunteered to deal with this myself to make sure there's no loose ends. Had you just killed him upfront you'd have save me a lot of trouble."

The hand around her arm loosened just a fraction.

"So then you're not here to save him then? Really? How interesting. How am I sure you're not just a charming little liar who'd say anything to buy herself time?"

"He abandoned us when I was a child and then comes back years and years later and forced me into marrying him based on some stupid old promise just so he could take charge and then he kicked me out of the one thing that was mine by birth and has expected me to live under his thumb since. So why the hell would I save him?!"

The entire time her eyes has never left Aoshi. He was watching her, his eyes piercing and blue as always. His face betrayed nothing, so whether he knew she was lying or believed she was telling the truth was unknown. She hoped he understood.

" I knew you were a cold-hearted bastard by reputation Shinomori, but so much even your wife wants you dead! This turn of events has truly made my night."

She felt the gun lower away from her side, and hold on her arm was gone. She fought the urge to punch the man in the face or kick him somewhere where it'd really hurt.

"Well then my dear, shall you do the honors then? Not that I'd trust you with any of our guns. Strangling perhaps?"

Misao rolled her eyes and pulled her sheath of kunai out from in her sleeve.

"I prefer these, my speciality."

"The little missus likes to play with knives! By all means, but don't be offended that my men stand on guard."

Misao unsheathed two of the kunai , unable to stop the slight tremor of nervousness that shook her body. No one else would have noticed, except for the man whose eyes never hers.

"Misao," Aoshi began, "do it."

She nodded slightly while the leader laughed, thinking Aoshi was asking her to kill him.

She threw, two kunai whizzing through the air. One landed next to his side, the other a half-inch from his legs.

"I thought your little knives were your speciality! You missed!"

Misao finally broke her gaze from Aoshi's and turned to face the leader slowly.

"Oh no, I never miss."

It was very quick, so much so the other thugs barely saw it coming. One moment Aoshi was perfectly still, the next he was free from the chair a blur across the room. Misao recognized it, the Water-Flow Technique, in which he moved so fast it looked like there were many of him. He took care of the thugs immediately, one whom displayed the audacity to try and use his own kodachi against him.

He turned to face the leader, who had recovered from momentary shock and once more held Misao at gunpoint.

"Don't move Shinomori, unless you harbor some secret desire for your wife to die. Or would that be a clever ploy as well?"

Aoshi didn't move, but his eyes grew colder. Misao knew this to never be a good sign for the person who caused such a change.

"And isn't this quite familiar? Except last time it was that spiky-headed brawler with the gun to his back."

Misao blinked.

"_That's _how they caught you?! You let yourself be captured to save Sagara?"

"You say that like it was some bad thing, Misao-chan, especially when me being alive is pretty handy to you now."

There was a punch noise and Misao watched the leader collapse to the ground and a smug looked Sanosuke cracking his knuckles.

"Eh?! What if he had pulled the trigger when you punched him! Do you want my ghost to haunt you!" Misao yelled, red in the face.

"Have you two been outside the room this whole time?" Aoshi asked, sheathing his kodachi.

Both Sanosuke and Kenshin were standing before them.

"Yes, we were waiting for the oppurtune time to help." Kenshin said with a smile.

"You mean you two waited to come in at the last minute and look cool!" Misao yelled, as she pulled her kunai from the chair.

" Now Misao-dono, it was nothing of the sort." Kenshin said, hands in front of him.

"So what do we do with them?" Sanosuke asked, looking around at a room of unconscious men.

"I believe I was followed here from Kyoto by a certain wolf. This is a mess best suited for him to clean up." Aoshi murmured and he gravitated to Misao's side.

"Is that so, Shinomori?"

They could smell the tobacco a moment before he appeared, surveying the scene with a bored look.

"Oh and let me guess, you waited in the bushes until everything was taken care off." Misao remarked.

"You all seemed to bumble your way through ending up alive. Though had you left this whole affair in the hands of the police you would have saved yourselves the trouble."

"Fine then, it's in your hands. Let's go, everyone!" Misao declared and she grabbed Aoshi by the hand and began walking out of the room.

"I didn't say your husband could go just yet. I am curious as to how the Oniwaban fit in all of this."

Misao narrowed her eyes at Saitou.

"They don't. As far as you need to be concerned, my husband and I are in the restaurant business and that is that. Don't bother us unless it's soba you're after. Let's go, Aoshi."

Kenshin and Sano both just blinked at her as she dragged the much taller man out of the room.

"I think that's our cue to leave now. I trust this is all taken care of?" Kenshin asked, slightly wary. Despite an uneasy truce, he still didn't trust Saitou. Old habits, and all.

"At least you left them all alive to be of use to me for information. Now get out."

Kenshin merely nodded in reply and he and Sano left to catch up with Aoshi and Misao.

Saitou looked around the room and smirked.

"Well now, let's see how you rats like tangling with a wolf."

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It late into the night, after more patching up by Megumi and lecturing by Kenshin on being too rash, that eveyone had settled in for the night. They were in one of the guest rooms in the corner of the Kamiya dojo, the moonlight casting a blue glow on the futon they shared.

She couldn't sleep, and she was sure he was awake. They hadn't said anything to each other since leaving the compound. She wasn't sure what he was thinking, but for her, she had been so worn by the whole event that she didn't think she would even know what to say.

She sighed and turned to face him, and sure enough her eyes met his.

Neither still spoke, but she reached out a hand slowly and rested it on the side of his neck. Her thumb brushed against his jaw softly. She bridge the distance completely, pressing her lips to his. He wrapped his arms around her tightly as they kissed, and she held him to her just as tight.

She didn't need words right now, it didn't matter. They were together, alive, and there was a tomorrow for them.

The End

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AN: This took longer to finish than I had originally planned, but life is funny and I've probably been in like 5 incarnations of where I am at during this whole story.


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